


Guardians

by TyleeJo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: AU, Eventual Romance, F/M, Guardians - Freeform, alternative universe, forest, magical non-mage, new twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyleeJo/pseuds/TyleeJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke sets out to rescue a fabled Guardian from Tevinter that even the old stories do not believe exist. Fenris seems to despise the Guardian but grudgingly decides to work with her to take out Danarius and Hadriana. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I have shared anything I have written and on top of that, I am new to the fan fiction style of writing. Reviews are wanted and desired but please be kind and honest.

Chapter 1

Garrett Hawke knelt down in the wet grass, soiling his robes, to try and obtain an adequate sample of a Harlot's Blush Flower. The weather on the Wounded Coast was never great, but today it seems to be even worse. A constant freezing drizzle continued to wear on each companion's attitude, except for the mabari's.

"Hurry up Hawke! Andraste's ass it's miserable out here."

"Oh Varric, stop your whining already." Surprisingly, Isabela has not complained about the weather once. Considering she has the least amount of clothes on, and absolutely no pants, is really saying something. Whenever out with Hawke, she takes her pleasure from guarding his back, and she may or may not let her eyes wonder over his body.

"Bianca doesn't do freezing wet all day, do you baby?" retorts a sturdy dwarf, as he pats a crossbow strapped across his back. A mischievous gleam lights up Isabela's eyes as she sucks air to let fly a dirty comeback about Bianca and being wet, but before she does, Hawke interrupts.

"Look guys, can we save it until we are all dry and have drinks in our hands?" says Hawke, straightening up and tucking his new treasure into his pack. "We should get back to Solivitus before everyone closes up shop for the night."

"I'll show you how to take care of your shop of fine goods tonight, Hawke," purrs Isabela with a suggestive wink. Hawke pretends to be rearranging his pack to avoid making eye contact with her but he is not fooling anyone.

"Can we continue back to Kirkwall or are we going to stand here in the rain and flirt all evening?" inquires Fenris.

"It is about time you spoke up. Your broodiness is looking marvelous with this weather," Varric puts in.

Fenris's eyes become slits, "I do not brood."

"Just take the complement," sighs Varric.

Finally exasperated with the tension of the group, Hawke starts walking off, calling his mabari to his side. The rest of the group gladly starts the march back to town. Halfway down the slope, the air seems to change. The mabari, Belle, freezes as she looks into some bushes on the edge of the path. Belle lets out a hair rising growl and everyone freezes in their tracks, readying weapons.

"Grab something sharp and pointy," advises Varric. "We've got company!"

"Be calm," the voice is gentle and calming. As if finally broken from a nightmare, Belle's hair lays flat and she lowers her head in submission.

"Well shit, I've never seen her do that," Hawke realizes. Drawing his staff, Hawke steps closer to the edge of the path, "Come out."

The bushes part and a gray woman steps out. Her skin is bare except for the vines winding up her legs and around her hips to her arms. Long dark hair falls over her shoulders, framing a face with black eyes.

"I am the Lady of the Forest and I mean you no harm," the calming voice comes again.

Hoping he recalls his history correctly, Hawke states, "The Hero of Ferelden released Witherfang and the Lady when she succeeded in breaking the curse of werewolves."

"You are correct," she confirms, "Now I am free to come and go as I wish. I must ask a favor of you and your companions. Remember I am not asking this lightly and if there was any other way I would take it." In the background Varric mumbles under his breath about everyone needing to ask Hawke for a favor.

"What favor would the Lady of the Forest ever need to ask?" asks Hawke with a polite tone.

"There has been treachery within my ranks. Tevinter mages have managed to capture one of my Guardians. Even if she is killed, her body would still contain magical properties and be of great use." There is no sympathy in the Lady's words, only a controlled concern for the overall outcome, not the individual involved. The mention of Tevinter mages brings a scowl to Fenris's face.

"Hawke," he says. All of Fenris's meaning conveyed into the one word. If Tevinter is involved, then they must be stopped. Out of everyone in the group, Fenris knows the most about the consequences of any situation involving Tevinter.

Not missing a beat, Varric adds, "The werewolf curse has been lifted, you said so yourself."

"You simply misunderstood. I am not speaking of werewolves but the Guardians. Enough questions, she is running out of time and I have no more answers I am willing to spare. What is your answer?" The Lady's voice lost its calming quality and gained a stern edge.

All eyes turn to Hawke, "We will help. What is needed to be done?"

Instead of answering, the Lady of the Forest reaches out a twigged finger to touch Hawke's forehead. Instantly there is a bright flash at the contact. Hawke's muscles tighten as he drops to the ground and the Lady disappears.

"Hawke! Are you okay?" Isabela drops to the ground beside him, pushing a concerned mabari away. Groaning, Hawke blinks his eyes and rubs his head.

"So, do you know where to go?" Serious as always, Fenris gets straight to the point, itching to crush some mages, especially Tevinter mages.

"Yes, the edge of the Planasene Forest."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know how to say the names, they are Latin and google translate can read them to you. Bioware owns everything Dragon Age, everything else is from my creative imagination.

Chapter 2

The sun is hot on my face as I try to blink the sweat away that is running into my eyes. I cannot spare the effort of wiping my face for fear of losing my focus. Taking a deep breath, I slow my racing heart and center my energy.

"Give it up already!" a voice yells from behind me.

A smile pulls at my lips when I recognize the owner of the voice, Volare. Every day around noon, since gaining my Mastery, he has come calling. I continue to ignore him as I return my full attention to my practice. Fire of all the elements is the hardest to control. It has a mind of its own and is willing to get away and consume everything it touches. I love it.

Another deep breathe and my thoughts turn to flame, hot and smoldering, ready to do my biding. Instantly there is a warming in my hands. There! The perfect balance of control and chaos! Lunging forward, I bring my hands together in front of my chest, then with everything I have I throw my hands out straight. A stream of flame flies from my hands and hits the training dummy square in the chest. I focus all my will into holding the fire steady. Six seconds in and the flames weaken, not reaching the dummy any longer. In my mind, I release my hold on fire and send it away. The flames instantly die down.

"Are you done yet?" Volare asks.

Taking a moment to wipe my brow, I glance over at him. "Yeah, I'm spent. Probably couldn't light a candle if I wanted to."

"Hey now Amare, do not berate yourself. Everyone here knows you still have plenty of energy to do whatever you want. Come take a break with me, O'Great Master you." And with that, Volare bends over into an exaggerated bow.

I look around the practice area taking in the trainees and other Guardians. Two elder Masters walk through the trainees shouting corrections and words of advice on form. Controlling an element successfully takes special, practiced technique in order to gain control. It takes years for someone to master their natural or born element, let alone all four to become a Master. A cool breeze blows down the canyon, making many sigh in relief. The sun seems to be very unforgiving out here in the open. The practice area is located at the bottom of a deep canyon with high stone walls. This is more for the protection of the forest from arrogant trainees thinking they know everything about their element and how to control it. Coming from experience with my temper, I know the stone can take wayward blasts better than trees and underbrush.

"Fine, I'll humor you today if you leave me alone tomorrow," I reply as I come back to the moment.

"Yes!" Volare exclaims, "She finally says yes! Come on I have some sweets." He practically jogs out of the practice area and into the trees. All I do is roll my eyes and follow.

At the top of the canyon we are finally out of the glare of the sun and under the forest's protection. Volare walks to the base of a tree and grabs a small rucksack leaning there.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Sure, what do you have planned? This can't take long; there are more drills I want to run through before patrol tonight." Hopefully I don't regret my decision.

"Take the afternoon off. It won't hurt you, I mean really, you already have the status," he states. "The youngest Master can have a break, and besides practice and Nero, you don't have a life."

Slightly insulted, I reach out and push him into some low bushes. He does not fall but continues walking through the brush.

"Look who needs practice, the newest trainee could have avoided that." I try to pick back at him but he ignores me and continues marching off through the bushes. Signing, I turn off the trail to follow.

"Now, where are you going?" I ask as I wind my way through the bushes. My training armor protects my legs from the branches, unlike Volare, whose trousers are going to defiantly need repaired.

"I can't tell you," he starts, "but I will let you know that I am here to save your social life from the ever increasing disaster. You should be thanking me."

"My social life is perfectly fine and it isn't any of your business anyways."

"You assassins, always stalking around alone, all moody and stuff. That is not considered a social life," comes the retort.

"Well," I say, "we can't all go on midnight runs through the forest, scratching fleas and sniffing each other's butts." Instantly, I regret my words when I see the flash of hurt in his eyes. "Look, Volare, that was uncalled for and I apologize."

"Don't worry about it." We walk in silence for a few minutes. Volare is a warrior and can shift into a wolf. Generally they work in packs, a mini army always on the move. As he mentioned, I am an assassin, we shift into black panthers and stalk from the shadows. If we need to work in groups, something really bad has happened.

Volare starts making small talk but for some reason his heart does not seem to be in it. Finally, he announces that we are there. Pulling his rucksack off, Volare sits at the top of a small rise. He takes some sweet rolls out and hands one to me as I take a seat next to him.

"We walked thirty minutes to sit here and eat sweet rolls?" I inquire as I take in my surroundings. On the far side of the rise is a slow flowing creek. Although it is moving slowly it looks about knee deep. Volare studies me for a moment. I shift, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Finally he breaks the silence.

"I figured you needed a break away from everything."

"That's kind of you." And with that, we both bite into our sweet rolls at the same time. The rolls are good but there seems to be something off about them. I do not pursue the thought any more than that. This is an outing with a friend and I am not going to ruin it with my worry and paranoia. Volare polishes his off before I am even half way through my own.

"So how have your patrols been?" Volare seems to be struggling to get his words out clearly. Before replying, I take another bit of my roll and look him over. He does not seem to be doing well and a slight sweat has broken out on his forehead. It really was not a long hike; he should not have worked up a sweat. Maybe the heat is getting to him.

"Okay, nothing interesting has – wait, Volare are you feeling alright?" My sentence breaks off as his eyelids start to droop and he seems to sage over to the ground.

"Volare…" I try to talk to him again. Then it hits me. My lips and tongue feel heavy and my limbs do not respond as I reach out, trying to slow Volare as he lands in the grass.

"Forgive me," he barely gets the words out before he truly passes out. I am not sure I heard him correctly.

Shit, shit, shit!

My mind is getting slow. Okay Amare, you can get out of this. Create some adrenaline to try and counteract whatever drug is in my system. Come on, break a finger, anything!

The world is too heavy, my arms will not more. I look down at my hands resting in my lap, willing them to move. I fall to the side and lay there for what feels like at least an hour. What a great way to go, out on a picnic and a damn sweet roll takes me out. Half of me wants to feel ashamed and the other half just wants to close my eyes and forget about it.

All of a sudden I feel hands on me, trying to get one of my arms over their shoulders to try and life me. The person grunts with the effort of finally lifting me up.

"You are heavier than you look," my lifter pants as he starts to move me down the rise.

Even in my stupor I take the words as an insult. Man, I am really touchy today. I know this person is a man, but he is clearly no warrior for his lack of strength gives it away. I still have no idea what is going on and there is a blackness closing around my vision.

Who has me? We are at the edge of the creek and he is going painfully slow trying to keep his footing in the water and not lose his hold on me.

I look at the water, my sluggish mind coming up with something. Being an assassin, my natural element is water. Evan in my half sedated state this should be easy. Just a wiggle of my fingers and my intentions should be enough to have the water doing my biding.

We are half way through when the slow creek surges faster around our legs. The rush and rise of water knocks him off balance, unfortunately he takes me down with him. Unable to catch myself, I hit face first and lose my connection to the water. That was not thought out very well. Let's just say my plans are normally brilliant. Not trying to brag or anything.

It is soothing the way the water flows around me although I cannot breathe through it. The drug finally pulls me all the way into its foggy embrace and I lose consciousness, chocking on water.

* * *

 

I am roughly dragged from the water.

"Dang it Amare! I'm trying to help you for nature's sake!" The voice is high and annoying but strangely familiar.

Hacking the water up, I squint my eyes open at him. The owner of the voice has a narrow face with high cheekbones. Recognition finally hits my slow brain.

"Jaculus?" My lips still feel swollen and I am pretty sure I only end up saying his name in my head.

What is he doing here? If he is trying to help, what about Volare?

I put effort into trying to stand as Jaculus puts my arm back over his shoulders. My muscles are not responding very well and I am glad I did not finish my sweet roll or I would be completely unconscious still. Jaculus half drags/half carries me for a few minutes into the forest until we hear voices.

"Where is he? I don't like being kept waiting." The voice is gruff, impatient, and male.

"Don't worry, he will get what's coming to him." This voice is used to being obeyed and the tone leaves no room for reply.

Stepping into the clearing, Jaculus clears his throat. "I am here with what was promised Messere Hadriana."

Shit, I do not like the feel or the sound of this. Please do not let me be whatever is promised.

The woman sneers as she steps forward, slapping Jaculus across the face. "That's Magister to you filth!" she hisses.

He was unable to lift his hands to defend himself because he is still trying to hold my sagging form up. Jaculus just stares dumbly at her as her handprint on his face reddens.

This is wrong. If he were to help me, why did he not take me back to the Guardians? This is some deep shit you got yourself into now Amare. My mind is still too slow and all I can do is rant to myself inside my head. Real healthy. I must at least get away from these people and sleep off the drugs.

After the slap, Jaculus loosened his hold on me. Unsuspecting anything, he does not try to stop me as I awkwardly try to lurch away. Stumbling a few steps, I hit my knees, my legs still not working enough to bear my weight on their own. Maybe four legs will be better than two. Concentrating through the drug, I try to change. A slow ripple moves over my skin as I put my hands to the ground, now on all fours.

"Don't let her shapeshift!" Hadriana shrieks. The man with the gruff voice steps forward and plants a kick to my side. There is a crack and a sharp intake of breath as my surge of adrenaline from the pain pushes the effects of the drug away. At least two ribs are cracked or broken.

My mind is clearing, the situation coming into sharper focus. Glancing around, but not moving my head, I notice Jaculus is nowhere to be found.

"Get the cuffs on her," there is no question to any of Hadriana's orders, especially this one. They all have been warned how dangerous this new cargo will be. Someone comes forward with the cuffs as the man who kicks me drags me roughly to my feet.

"If these keep a Saarabas silenced, they will be able to manage her," he sneers. The gruff man is smug as he puts the cuffs on. Too bad for him, my abilities do not draw on mana. The drug is starting to take its effect on me again. I pray to the Lady that I can keep my head together long enough to call on an element to wipe that smug look off his face. I hope fire is willing to come out and play.

He attaches the cuffs, and instantly they bite into my skin. These are no regular Saarebas silence cuffs, at least not anymore. They have been warped and tainted by blood magic. The elder Masters have warned me about such practices. I grit my teeth through the unexpected reaction to the cuffs. I channel all my rage and confusion at the situation into a burning inferno that I release from my hands, straight into the gruff man's chest and face.

The blast forces me backwards onto the ground again and completely blows the man off his feet. He shrieks and cries as he is slowly consumed by the fire. His comrades make no moves to help him.

Hadriana giggles, "Well that was exciting. Now we can't have you throwing fire around. How about we break your arms and then see how easy you can fling flames, little bitch? Danarius said alive, not undamaged."

I'm dizzy and weak from the drugs and the burst of flame I summoned. Hearing her words, I quickly try to crawl away. Hands grab me from all sides, pinning me on my back. Hadriana laughs again. I swear to myself I will kill her slowly.

I have never screamed so hard in my life.

My right arm goes first and I could not look away as they continued to break both my forearms. It looked very wrong and my left arm suffered an open fracture, the bones pushing all the way through the skin. Blood runs down my arm hitting the cuff. It glows, seeming to take pleasure from the blood and pain feeding into it. I pray to any creator that would listen that this was only a nightmare.

Finally, blackness overtakes me and I pass out.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I blink my eyes open as the throbbing in my arms becomes overwhelming. It is too dark to be able to fully take in my surroundings and my eyes are slow to adjust to the darkness. I am sitting in what seems to be a closed carriage. The cuffs around my wrists are still giving off a soft thrumming in the back of my mind. I feel drained and useless as I look at my hands lying pathetically in my lap. Any of my arms causes extreme agony from the breaks. With the drug out of my system, I reassess my ribs. Two are defiantly broken.

Judging by the darkness outside, at least nine hours have passed since my arms and ribs were broken that afternoon. The ribs should have been completely healed by now. Unlike ordinary humans, Guardians heal at faster rates.

Unless the Saarebas silence cuffs are hindering my healing ability. That would explain the constant hum in my mind. With all the shit that has happened to me today, I am not surprised. Guess I am going to Tevinter. I always wanted to see a city up close, but hopefully I am long gone by then. Closing my eyes, I try to distract myself from the pain by thinking of horrible ways to repay Hadriana.

* * *

 

Hawke, Isabela, Varric, and Fenris all agreed to set out for the Planasene Forest immediately. The group must be at the outskirts of the forest before dawn. The location and timeframe the Lady showed Hawke did not allow extra time to return to Kirkwall to gather their other companions and extra supplies.

Fenris has been on edge since the mention of Tevinter. His quick pace easily allows him to out stride the others, eventually he lead the group. Varric, with his short dwarf legs, took this opportunity to try and harass the elf into slowing down. Fenris promptly ignores him and keeps the same pace. Despite the differences in leg length, they were making good time. A few hours before dawn, the forest's edge was visible, a darker black against the night sky.

"We need a breather, we can afford the time," suggests Varric. Having to practically jog all night to keep up with the elf, he is the most fatigued.

Fenris does not turn back to the group as he gives a firm "no."

Hawke disagreed, "Varric is right, we made good time. Let's rest for a few minutes."

"Fine," Fenris is in no mood to simply rest. He paces back and forth, continuously glancing at the tree line. Everyone else took a seat and stretched out their legs.

"Alright Broody, settle down. You are making my short legs hurt even more," grumbles Varric after a few minutes rest.

Hawke quickly interrupts; he is getting tired of playing peace-maker. "From what I know of their location, they should be camped right inside the tree line. We are going to scout around the camp before making any moves."

Once Varric was ready, they moved silently through the underbrush. The trees overhead block out any light from the moon, hiding the group but also making it harder to see. A faint flickering of a campfire sends shadows dancing across the tree trunks.

The camp is small. Two men sit next to the fire, the only guards to be found. Their attention focused on the bottle they passed between each other. On the far side of the camp, three tents are set up. The center tent was larger than the two flanking it. Beside the tents, there is a coach and a horse tethered to a tree close by, dozing.

Hawke and the others fan out. Not shortly after everyone settles in place, a man in full armor step out of the tent on the far right. He barks orders at the two on watch to start harnessing the horse. The two guards are too dull from the alcohol and lack of sleep to harness the horse efficiently. Sighing, the commander takes over the horse and tells the two "drunken idiots" to wake everyone else but the Mistress. Before long, the sun lights up the clearing with its morning light and there is a rustling in the largest tent.

Hawke works out plans in his head for different ways that he and his group could overtake the men. Hawke assumes at least two more soldiers can be found in the tent on the left and the leader will be found in the largest tent. There is no sign of a captive. Just as Hawke moves to ask Isabela to scout closer in the shadows, a lady steps out of the largest tent. She has shoulder length dark hair, with pale blue eyes, and an air of cruelty. There is a growl as Fenris lunges from his hiding spot, sword drawn.

"Come and face me Hadriana!" Fenris's lyrium is glowing brighter than Hawke has ever seen before. His quick appearance makes everyone in the camp jump, except the horse and Hadriana.

"Well well well… I see you are going to make this easy for me," Hadriana's eyes light up as she looks Fenris over.

"It's time you die!"

Hawke knows Fenris is not thinking clearly and steps forward to join the fight. He silently curses Fenris for his rash move. If only they could have come up with a strategy before rushing into a fight. Isabela is way ahead of Hawke and the Captain harnessing the horse takes her twin fangs to the back. Instantly, he drops to the ground.

* * *

 

Dawn light is peaking in through the carriage windows. I doze off but jerk awake to the sound of a scream. My arms are still throbbing and I am very light headed. Inching forward, I try to look out the window to see what is happening. Maybe the other Guardians have finally come for me.

* * *

 

The battle is over quick. The two guards were too tipsy to truly put up a fight and the others were still in their nightwear when they were cut down. There is no stopping Fenris when he is in a rage, and this rage would not quit until he feels Hadriana's heart crushed in his hand.

All four companions were focusing their efforts on the mage as she summoned a force field around herself. A bolt from Bianca hits it and shatters.

"Enough of this little game, I'll be back for you Fenris, and my new little toy," says Hadriana. And with that, she closes her eyes and starts chanting.

"NO!" Fenris screams as he starts slamming on the force field with his sword. The bodies of the dead guards start to jerk as their blood is pulled out of their wounds. Through the air it flies, wrapping around Hadriana. It merges with the force field and then implodes.

Hadriana has gotten away.

Fenris falls to his knees where he was trying to break the shield around Hadriana. Hawke walks up behind him but dares not to touch him for fear of bodily harm to himself.

"Next time Fenris," is all he says. There are no words that would comfort the elf. Isabela and Varric give the elf a wide space as they start looting the camp. "Let's find this prisoner."

The tents were empty, only leaving the carriage.

* * *

 

I cannot see anything out the window next to me but trees. It hurts too bad to scoot and look out the other side so I sit and wait. Whatever is happening outside did not sound planned. There is a scream of frustration and anger, and then all is quiet.

A few minutes pass and my anxiety grows. There are footsteps outside the carriage and someone tries the handle.

"Isabela, can you come open this?" The voice is male and is raised to reach the ears of Isabela, who must be across the camp.

"Sure thing," come the sultry reply.

Lock picks slide into the door farthest from me. These voices are new and not a part of my captors hired swords. My instincts tell me to view them as a threat. I am cornered, weak, and without any defenses. The door gives a final click and I lean away into the wall. Silently, I berate myself for being such a coward.

Two faces look in at me. The woman, Isabela, has two daggers drawn and is half crouched, ready to strike whatever was found behind the locked door. Behind her is a man with a staff, also ready for a fight.

Oh great, another mage, let's hope this one is not a psycho also.

"Find anything good?" A dwarf walks into view but stops abruptly taking in the sight of the carriage. The extra light does not make my situation look any better. Blood from my left break has soaked into my leggings, running down my calf onto the floor. There is a chain coming out of the center of the carriage attaching to my cuffs; I have not noticed this until now. It was not like I was in a position to really move around anyway.

"This must be the fabled prisoner we have heard so much about," says the man. He is tall with black hair and a beard. There is a swipe of red across the bridge of his nose.

I stare back at them defiantly. Suddenly, Isabela sheaths her daggers and climbs inside. I hiss, the rocking of the carriage jars my ribs and arms. She freezes, thinking my reaction was directed at her.

"I'm just going to try and get the chain off," her voice is low and gentle. By coming closer she can fully see the extent of the damage to my arms. "Hawke, we need medical attention in here."

"Can you come out here?" He seems nervous. Guess he is not as willing to crawl into a cramped space with a prisoner as Isabela.

"Maybe," Isabela lets the chain drop to the floor. "Now the cuffs," she says. As she touches the cuffs on my wrist, they start to glow. Isabela shrieks as they shoot electricity through her body. She is not the only one to feel it. The cuffs attack me too, sending waves of electricity through my body. My muscles tighten, causing my ribs and arms to scream in pain. Grinding my teeth together, I will myself to not make a sound. I do not want to seem weak in front of these new captors. Just as it begins, the cuffs go silent except for the slight hum in my head.

When Isabela screamed, Hawke reached in and dragged her out. She was now sitting on the ground with a tall man and a short dwarf leaning over her.

"The cuffs might have to stay, I have never seen something like that before," Isabela panted.

"Bet ya didn't feel anything like that before either," puts in the dwarf. Knowing his friend is alright, Hawke turns back to me and starts studying the cuffs.

Looking me in the eye, he asks, "Do you know what these cuffs are?"

Honestly, I am not sure if I should answer. The screams must mean they killed the men who did this to me and they have not caused me harm yet. Telling him what I know could mean a chance at getting the damned things off. If they come off, I can heal and with solid arms I can easily outmaneuver this group, in human or predator form.

"They are Saarebas silence cuffs but they are tainted with something I believe is called blood magic." All three companions swear at the mention of blood magic.

"We need Merrill. I am sorry but I am not going to be able to heal you with the silence cuffs on. Isabela, help me get the horse hooked back up and we will get back to Kirkwall." Hawke and Isabela move away to start preparations of journeying back.

"I'm Varric Tethras and this is Bianca," the dwarf with a large crossbow introduces himself as he sits in the opening of the door. Whoever this Bianca person is, they are not in my line of sight. I merely nod back at his introduction, not wanting to give away any information that is not needed, my name included. "Come on now, don't be shy," he continues on.

At that time there is arguing heard from the front of the carriage. I catch a quick "Fenris don't" as Varric stands up in front of the new stranger.

"Out of my way," the voice is deep and animal-like as it growls at the dwarf to move. Quickly, he steps around the dwarf and reaches an arm in with white lines. He grabs my upper arm; thankfully he did not directly grab the break. Roughly, I am jerked out onto the ground.

My head swims as pain shoots up my arm. He just had to grab the arm that is broke the worst. Blood starts flowing down my arm again, feeding the cuffs. I cannot help but whimper this time at the pain. Something cold touches my neck as I look up. At the end of a bloody blade stands an elf with piercing green eyes and white hair.

"Tell me right now why I should not kill you?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Silently I think of reasons why this elf should not kill me. All of my answers are great, but will mean nothing to him. Using the fact that I am a Guardian alone would have been more than enough evidence for me to live.

“I will not ask again,” he growls. His voice is deep and sends shivers down my spine. He presses the blade harder into my neck. I have not been able to look away from those green eyes since landing on the ground. Continuing to stare, I offer no answer. Let him kill me. The pain will end and my body will return to nature.

Hawke steps up to the elf’s side but does not touch him. My aggressor is the first to break our staring contest as he glances at Hawke. As if waiting for that acknowledgement, Hawke speaks.

“What are you doing?” is all he asks.

“She is clearly a mage and a danger if Hadriana must use Saarebas silence cuffs tainted by blood magic,” the elf spits her name as if it is the worst poison to ever touch his lips.

“I am no mage.” _Shit, did I say that?_ I most certainly did because everyone is looking at me.

The pain is going to my head, clouding my once in check thoughts. My brain had the stupid urge to correct his false accusation without thinking of the information it may reveal. I press my lips together and focus on the overwhelming throbbing coming from my arms.

“This must be the guardian person the Lady sent us to save. Now stand down.” Hawke’s words indicate that this group knows something about the Lady and the Guardians. The elf does lower his sword but continues to glare down at me. I study the one they call Hawke. He is the leader of the group and there is a strange feeling about him.

“Have you been touched?” I ask.

“We all know Hawke is a little special but none dare to say it to his face,” admits the dwarf with a smirk.

“Thanks for the input Varric, but I do not think that is what she is asking,” Hawke steps forward and kneels down to my level. “The Lady of the Forest came to us, asking aid, and she did touch my head to show me this location.”

What he says is true. Some of the Lady’s essence still clings to this man in front of me. Any Guardian can sense the Lady and what she has marked. By touching Hawke, she not only showed him my location but marked him as trustworthy. The Lady is clever and was thinking ahead. If the rescue was successful and I lived, this would prove to me Hawke was safe, if I died, no loss. This mark does nothing for his friends. Naturally, I am not a trusting person. What type of assassin is very trusting?

_Then again, what type of master assassin gets their ass handed to them by a sweet roll…_

“I believe you, but I do not trust them.”

Isabela pouts, “I unchained you and we got shocked together, doesn’t that count for something?”

“Not in her book. I can also guess she comes from an entirely different book than us.” Varric gives me a knowing look.

The dizziness has returned full force. I look down at my broken arms, ashamed at how helpless I have been. Never, in my entire life, have I been this useless. To stand, I would require aid.

The group is impatient to return to Kirkwall. They are thankful for the horse and carriage to take them back on the return trip. Varric is the most excited about the fact that they will not be walking back to Kirkwall. Hawke and Isabela help me up and back into the carriage. I do not see the elf because he stalked away earlier when Hawke knelt down next to me. Varric climbs into the carriage, situating himself and a rather large crossbow across from me.

“Bianca and I are riding inside, where we will be good and comfortable.” This dwarf may grow annoying if he must state the obvious. Bianca must be his weapon, not a person. Maybe he is slightly insane. My tutors have said surface dwarfs can go crazy with so much sky above their heads for long periods of time.

“I’ll ride with you, Hawke. As a bonus, I will keep you warm by sharing some body heat,” Isabela starts to move to the front of the carriage.

“I think it would be best if you take Belle and ride in the carriage and Fenris is up front with me.” Everyone is aware of Fenris and his moods, especially now that the past is catching up to him.

“Damn, I hate it when you are right,” Isabela rolls her eyes. “That broody bastard needs some anger management. He is taking the fun out of things.”

The return trip to Kirkwall was uneventful. My body seemed to scream at every slight bump in the road. Isabela and Varric notice my discomfort and shallow breathing. They politely ask Hawke if he could try a little harder to avoid the rougher terrain. There was a scoff that could have only come from the elf, Fenris.

Between the bumps, agony, and waves of dizziness I thought about what Varric said earlier. I am from a different book, one that holds training, nature, and responsibilities of our roles in life to the highest degree. Interacting socially with my rescuers should never happen. The only time I would interact with an outsider would be to kill them or torture them for information and then kill them. Anyone outside of the Guardians who learned of us would be killed.

Me sitting here, although against my will, goes against everything I have learned. I must find a way out of this but half of me wants to blindly trust Hawke and his companions. To stop being suspicious of everyone, even my own comrades, for once. Now is really not the best time for me to stop caring, I do not know these people. This could be a part of their plan. A very weird plan. 

Kirkwall rises out of the misty gloom. The city sits on the coast, west of the Planasene Forest. Trauma and blood loss are catching up to my body as the humming in my head turns to ringing and my vision blurs.

_Shit, I cannot pass out again. We are about to enter a city full of outsiders and this is the time my body conveniently plans to black out?_

Varric calls for Hawke as I slump to the side. Hands help me stay upright as the dizziness pulls me under.

 

*~*

 

“Fuck!” I jerk awake with a curse as Hawke resets the break in my left arm. I try to sit up but Isabela has her hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the bed. Hawke still has his hands on my arm as a blonde man steps forward. He brings his hands over my wounded arm as they start to glow a faint blue.

My delusional and foggy mind recognizes the blue as magic; I double my efforts to try and get out of his reach. I never should have trusted this man, whether the Lady touched him or not. When the elf jerked me out of the carriage, I should have made an attempt at dragging my sorry ass away. Then the elf could have killed me and I would not be in the situation, about to be tortured.

“Stop moving, I am trying to help,” the blonde mage’s magic finally touches me. The reaction is not what my slow brain conjured up. Waves of healing, like a pitcher of cool water being poured, runs over my arm. Slowly, I let my muscles relax. My other injuries are already healed; the healer deciding to save the worst injury for last.

Once the mage has finished healing my arm, everyone slowly steps back. Besides the blonde mage, Hawke, and Isabela, there is another person in the room. She is a short, petite elf with dark hair and Vallaslin decorating her face. In her hands she holds the cuffs. This must be the blood mage Hawke mentioned. Noticing the lack of commotion and curses she glances our way.

“Oh good, you all are done,” her voice is child-like. She takes a step towards me, cuffs still in hand.

“Stay back,” I hiss, bringing my hands up. I am fully healed and ready to unleash every element to keep the blood mage and those nasty cuffs away.

“Easy there, no one is going to hurt you and you are not going to hurt us, deal? Deal,” proposes and confirms Hawke. I agree to nothing but I do lower my arms.

“What’s your name?” Isabela ignores the glare I am sweeping the room with. Defiantly not impressed with the situation. “She could give Fenris a run for his money with that look.”

My glare lands on Hawke. He is the one I am willing to speak with. He is the key to figuring out this mess I am in. These people know something and I must find out what. Holding a civil conversation is not going to be easy. I am in a mood and if I request information, he is surely going to ask for some in return. There is no way for me to demand information and stay silent in return. I am not in a position where I have the advantage.

“I must speak with only you.” My demand seems to make everyone nervous. No one wants to leave their leader with a potentially dangerous stranger. _They have no idea how dangerous I really am._

“That’s not possible, there is no way I am leaving you alone with Hawke. Either you talk to all of us or I start cutting those pretty little fingers of yours off,” Isabela has on her best bitch face. Hands on hips, she leans over me. If I were standing, we would be the same height.

Anders, Hawke, and Merrill stare at Isabela in shock. They have never heard her begin a conversation with a threat. Maybe a false threat here and there but the look on her face says it’s serious. The door swings open, making Merrill jump. Varric and another man in white armor walk in.

“What did I miss?” asks Varric. Easily he assesses the situation with sharp eyes.

“Oh not much, just in time to watch the ladies push each other around,” says Hawke.

“I always loved a good cat fight,” Varric takes a seat on a crate next to Anders.

“But there are no cats, and why would they be fighting?” Merrill has a confused look on her face.

“We need to get everything straightened out,” Hawke looks at me. “My friends are going to stay while we figure this mess out. If we do anything, it is as a team. Varric, where is Fenris?”

“We dropped the horse off at the chantry stables and I turned around for one second, and poof, he disappeared. I assume he went back to that mansion of his to brood and break things. I did pick up Sebastian though.”

Hawke gives an understanding nod, “I will talk to him later, but right now, some introductions are in order. I’m Hawke; you already know Varric and Isabela. This is Merrill, she removed the cuffs, and Anders who healed you, and Sebastian is our newest and most shiny member. Aveline would be here but she is busy.” Sebastian was certainly the shiniest person in the room.

I hate to admit it to myself, but given the situation, I do not have a lot of options. One, I could stay quiet and not know what they know. Two, I could talk and they may know enough that by the Guardians Laws I must kill them. _What a great way to start off._ My lack of experience with outsiders and conversations leaves me at a loss on where to take this conversation.

“Fine, but I must warn you of one thing. If you learn or already know too much, I must kill you.”

“Oh a flare of dramatic, I think I may start to like you,” says Isabela.

“I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a story,” Varric’s voice carries enthusiasm as he gets comfortable to listen and take mental notes.

“None of this will be shared or made into a story,” states Hawke, catching Varric’s intent. “This is too deadly of a matter and it must be taken seriously as much as I hate to say it.”

 

*~*

 

And with that, the group shares how the Lady of the Forest appeared and touched Hawke. Their knowledge of the Guardians is basically non-existent. Merrill has a brief knowledge of the legend from her days of training to be a Keeper but knows nothing solid.

Everyone is interested in the Guardians and who I am. With a lot of arguing I decide to throw caution and training to the wind. If an elder master learned of this, my elements would surely be brutally stripped from me. Basically, the situation became an all or nothing.

My audience was perplexed by the fact that Guardians were not mages. The power is not pulled from mana and the Fade but nature and the strength of the wielders mind. Guardians are born with an affinity for an element. This element defines what class they belong to.

 **Air** – Class: Scribe/courier/scout. Shape: Falcons. Keepers of records and knowledge, carry messages and scouting the forest. Normally do not become masters.

 **Earth –** Class: Warriors. Shape: Wolves. Essentially the army, working well in teams or packs. Talented in bringing down groups. Sometimes masters.

 **Water** – Class: Assassins. Shape: Panthers. Skilled with stealth and coercion. Quickly taking out selected targets before they even know what happens. Common masters.

 **Fire** – Class: Masters. Shape: N/A. Guardians who show an affinity for all elements, normally arising at an older age. If the Guardian can successfully master all three elements and is deemed worthy, the Lady will grant the element of fire to them through a ritual. Considered sacred.

Guardians serve the Lady, listen to the elders, and respect the masters. The location of the Guardians and the surrounding forest is their charge. If anything wanders too close they will be driven off or killed. Anyone learning about the Guardians is instantly killed.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

            Hawke and his companions took my information well. They are accustomed to hearing weird and outlandish tales. It is just an every other day occurrence for them that old legends happen to be real. I cannot say for certain if everyone believed everything I said, but Varric was interested in all the details. After explaining the different classes and a brief history, there were questions about my daily life. These questions were asked out of curiosity with no ulterior motives. The more everyone talked, the more the tensions from earlier melted away.

                I have limited knowledge about outsiders and their daily lives, so after I shared my personal information about Guardians I asked if they could do the same with their outsider world and city. Everyone obliged.

                Varric is an amazing story teller and he added extra embellishments here and there. Hawke did his best to keep his exaggerations to a minimum.

                Taking the lead, Varric began his tale with the arrival of Hawke’s family and Aveline Vallen to Kirkwall. Aveline was absent that night because of some extra patrols she picked up. Hawke and his brother, Carver, worked their way into the city through the Red Irons. After their debts were paid, they left the Red Irons with a small reputation and a desire to earn enough gold to purchase a decent home for their mother. That’s when they met Varric and started raising gold to invest in a Deep Roads Expedition led by Bartrand, Varric’s brother. The following missions and requests for aid led to Hawke obtaining the rest of his companions. Enough gold was raised and the Deep Roads expedition was underway. Carver did not go with the group because he got into a heated argument with Garret Hawke about always being in his shadow a few days before they left. While the elder Hawke was away, Carver joined the Templar order but promised Garret he would not share his secret.

                Hawke returned from the Deep Roads a rich and lucky man. Bartrand, seemingly mad, locked Hawke and his crew in one of the final crypts they explored. Varric was furious and his anger to get back at his brother led them all out of the Deep Roads.

                This group of people is odd and very diverse but they are a family. Watching them reminisce about past adventures together gave it away. I feel jealous of the connection these friends share. Assassins of the Guardians do not have close knit family groups. Children are allowed to stay with their mothers until they can begin training, usually around the age of 6 or 7. In a sense, every Guardian is family and we would all fight for each other out of duty and responsibility. Hawke’s group fights because they care, not because it is their job.

                In the early morning hours, the group disbands except for Hawke, who is asleep on the floor, head resting on a massive dog. Isabela curls up next to him. I offer the bed to her but she just waves me away, mumbling about not wanting to miss this chance to be next to Hawke. With only the three of us and the dog left, I roll over and think about what it would be like to have so many friends. _I know, my personal sob story._

 

*~*

 

                I wake to find Isabela rifling through her clothes. Hawke and the dog have already left and I berate myself for not noticing them leave.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Honestly, trying to find you some pants. I already have a top for you,” she replies. When all this started, my training leathers were worn but now they are dirty and stiff with sweat and blood. My body is also grimy and I probably stink. It seems I will not be returning to the forest soon, so I might as well try and make the best of my surroundings.

                Tentatively I ask, “Is there a stream I can go wash in?”

                This gets Isabela’s attention. She stops digging through her clothes and starts giggling. I have no idea what I said that would be funny. _Does she think the idea of being clean so weird?_

                “Oh sweetheart, I have a bath you could use. There is no need to rough it,” Isabela starts asking questions about what my quarters were like with the Guardians. From what I revealed last night, sharing more will not hurt.

                My room was simple, without any personal items filling the room. Training did not allow a lot of free time to collect items that did not have a purpose. Isabela’s room was full of random items gathered from her adventures, mainly jewelry and anything having to do with ships or the ocean.

                We continue talking about my bare room as we gather the water for the bath. She helps me peel my leathers off and then quietly steps out when I begin to bathe. Her bath is small but it was warm and it felt amazing scrubbing the grim off. My arms are stiff, but quickly became accustomed to moving again. There was no need for me to rush the process. I had no training or tasks to attend to. Sighing, I try and sink deeper down into the warm water, bending my knees up to make room.

                The water turns lukewarm and I decide to get out. The clothes Isabela found for me are simple, a plain blouse and leather leggings. I’m a little bit smaller than her and my breasts are not as large, but the clothes will do. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I take a moment to examine what I see. Bold, blue eyes stare back at me from a face framed with long blonde hair that hangs past my shoulders. My muscles are well defined from years of hard training to become an assassin. On top of my general training, I pushed myself harder and farther than the rest to become a Master at a young age.

                I continue to stare at myself in the mirror. The Elders did not allow us to have mirrors because they did not want vanity to distract us from our duties. My reflection is so clear compared to the rippling images I am used to seeing reflected in the streams when I bathe.

                The door opens wide as Hawke and Isabela walk in. I jump, reflexively moving into a crouched defensive position.

                “I do like em’feisty,” purrs Isabela as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. She shoots me a wink and pats the bed next to her. Still cautious, I sit on the crate against the wall. Hawke hands me some warm bread and cheese as he takes the seat next to Isabela.

                “How are you this morning?” he inquires.

                “Alright, thank you.” I eat my meal in silence, unsure about making conversation. Isabela asks Hawke questions about his visit with Fenris. It sounds like Fenris is in what they refer to as a “mood.” He does not fully believe my story, let alone the fact that I am not a mage. Hawke believes that once Fenris’s anger at losing Hadriana passes, he will be back to his broody self. I am sensing there is a lot of history between Hawke and his other companions. Hawke wraps up the conversation by mentioning he wants everyone to meet in Varric’s room this evening to discuss a plan.

                Before stepping out the door, Hawke turns, throwing Isabela a tan pouch.

                “Here is some extra gold so you can take Amare out to get clothes.” Hawke smirks before adding, “Everyone will be shocked about the fact that you were able to even find a pair of pants for her.”

                Isabela garbs a pillow from the bed and lobs it at Hawke. The pillow thumps against the door; Hawke was already gone.

                “This is going to be some much needed girl time. I hate to admit it, but dealing with all those big, stinky men all the time can become tiring. There is Merrill, but I can only put up with her stubborn innocence for so long,” the pant less pirate sighs.

                My curiosity gets the better of me as I ask, “Can you show me around the city? And what is this girl time?”

                “Sure thing, we are going to have so much fun! Basically, girl time is just hanging out and swapping stories between girl friends. And do not forget the gossip!” And with that, Isabela tucks the bag of coins into her cleavage and heads for the door.

                The tour started with the Hanged Man where Isabela and Varric both kept rooms. The interior of the tavern is all wood and very plain but Isabela swears this tavern is one of the most popular destinations in Kirkwall. Except for the Blooming Rose, she adds with a wink.

                The Hanged Man is located in Lowtown. Outside the tavern a few people walk by. I start to feel slightly nervous with so many outsiders around. It feels kind of weird to be this close and not be killing them for wandering too deep into the forest. I remind myself that this is not the forest and they have every right to be doing whatever it is outsiders do with their time.

                Isabela literally took it upon herself to show me everything there is to see in Kirkwall, except for the Gallows. She warms me to not use any of my “talents,” unless I want to be made tranquil or killed on the spot for being a mage. I start to correct her about me not actually being a mage when she cuts me off, saying it does not matter. These people do not know that and even if they did, it would not stop them. Isabela goes on to explain what tranquility is and the current mage/Templar situation.

                Spending the day walking around the city with Isabela is interesting. Outsiders live so different from the Guardians. I wonder if they ever feel life they have no purpose in life?

                This brings me back to my situation. I need to head back to the forest but Hawke and his group know too much. My duty would be to silence this group and disappear back into the shadows and legend. _So why am I going along with this tour and shopping?_

                Honestly, I do not know. I find myself relaxing with Isabela the more time I spend with her. She holds this care free charm that is hard to ignore. If only she were a Guardian, maybe she could have been a friend. Her tales of dueling, if true, show her as an accomplished rogue. She could easily adjust to being an assassin.

                I am pulled out of my day dreams when Isabela stops in front of a stall at the Hightown Market.

                “Let’s get you outfitted in something nice. Hawke can afford it and I am willing to spend it,” Isabela has an excited smile on her face as she starts going through blouses. I have never seen so many different options. The Guardians are all about functionality and simplicity.

                I run my hands over a blouse with long sleeves. Its color is a beautiful splash of vibrant red.

                “Oh madam, this blouse will make your blonde hair shine!” says a man in the stall who holds it up for me to see. Isabela comes over.

                “I agree, we will take it but not for that price.” The man running the stall and Isabela start haggling over a price. I watch with interest. Whenever I needed new equipment or supplies I was able to just obtain them from the craftsmen; there is no buying between the Guardians.

               

*~*

 

                Shopping and touring the city took all day. By the time Isabela and I return to the Hanged Man, I am ready to retire for the night. Being around so many outsiders and feeling crowded has not helped my nerves or my mood. I forgot we still need to visit with Hawke. This may be a long night; I need to find a way to relieve this tension.

                At the top of the stairs, Isabela shows me Varric’s room. His door is wide open and it seems we are the last to arrive.

                “Here are the lovely ladies now. I saved you a seat,” Varric waves me over to sit next to him. To my right is Sabastian.

                “Hello again,” I sink into my seat.

                “Hello, I hope Isabela is not running you ragged,” his voice is charming. I smile softly as I look into his caring eyes. He is wearing the white armor again, with his brown hair brushed back. Anders and Merrill are across the table from us.

                Hawke gets straight to business, “Alright, we need to figure out what to do about our latest discover, the possible threat of Hadriana and whatever Danarius has planned.” While Hawke was speaking, the elf with the full body tattoos walks in. My muscles tense; his eyes scan the room but thankfully do not come to rest on me but Hawke.

                “So nice of you to start without me Hawke, and there is no possible threat, she is a threat,” he sneers.

                “Hey now elf, no one expected you here. We all thought you would be brooding in that big ol’mansion of yours,” Varric cuts in. Fenris’s eyes become slits as he glares at the dwarf.

                “What I was saying,” Hawke speaks up, “We need to figure out a place for Amare to stay and then go from there. Varric, have your contacts heard anything about this mess?”

                “Nothing, but there is word of some mages from Tevinter here for slaves.”

                “Amare can always stay with me. We have been bonding, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Isabela shoots me a wink. I shift in my seat, unsure how to reply. With all this winking she does, I am surprised she has not obtained a permanent twitch.

                Anders seemed to sense my discomfort, but interprets it wrong. “We all know how Isabela bonds. There is an open cot at my clinic if you want to avoid her affections, who knows what you could catch…”

                “ANDERS!” Isabela scolds.

                Fenris’s eyes finally land on me, giving me a weird tingly feeling. “Just what we need, two crazy mages plotting together,” he starts. “Merrill, why don’t you join them and mix in some blood magic?”

                This guy’s attitude is really getting on my nerves. I have been edgy all afternoon and I do not need this prick making comments.

                “I am no mage,” I growl as I stand up. Staring him down, I offer a silent challenge as wind picks up around me, playing with my hair. Fenris lights up his tattoos when he sees the air around me move.

                Hopefully, all hell does not break lose but I am counting on it.

               

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I would welcome a fight between Fenris and me. With the Guardians, any dispute can be settled with combat. The victor gains dominance over the loser and sometimes moves up the ranks. For Guardians, battles between assassins can be common and non-existent with the scouts and scholars. The warriors will sometimes have disputes over the pack alpha. The Lady does not outlaw fighting because it is natural to have competition and rivalry. At least killing one another is banned by the elders.

I can remember the feel of Fenris’s sword at my throat when we were back in the forest. We start to advance around the table towards each other but before we could move more than three feet, the rest of the group is blocking our paths.

Varric is the only one to stay seated, but he does pull the large crossbow onto his lap. “No fighting in my room or Bianca will be having a few choice words with you.”

“Fenris, she is not a mage and does not take being called one kindly. Now back off or go take a walk,” Hawke moved away from Fenris when he deactivates his marks. He leans against the wall, shooting daggers at me with his eyes. I am so frustrated that he gave into Hawke, I let loose a growl that rumbles deep in my chest.

Everyone’s eyes snap to me. There was something not quite human about the sound.

Sebastian, who moved in front of me, suggests: “Why don’t we sit back down and work this out?”

I only nod as I retake my seat.

“Why do you not like being called a mage?” Varric is unafraid to come out and ask what everyone is wondering.

“Because it is not what I am. I am a Guardian, a Master of elements, and an assassin. All my life I have worked my ass off to be where I am. Natural talent will only take someone so far.”

“How old are you?” Merrill asks.

“I am 19.”

“Oh, you seem too young to be an assassin,” there is true concern in her voice.

Anders turns to Merrill, “The Crows start their assassins when they are little children.”

Varric is hungry to know more, “Last night you mentioned not everyone becomes a master, and that you are the youngest, why is this?”

My eyes wonder over the group as I reply, “It can be hard enough for some to master their born element. Elements are not originally created by magic, in a sense, they are their own beings. We only request their aid and direct their power. Some become so connected to their born element that they attract the other elements. For example, I completely mastered my born element, water, by the age of eight. I was ahead of all my peers who would come to master their elements around the age of 12 to 15.” I notice Fenris is still glaring at me so I shoot a glare right back. “Over time I noticed a breeze playing with my hair on still days. I started trying to manipulate the air and it responded. Two older boys saw and one evening they cornered me. I believe they felt threatened by my skill. They said be gone or they would kill me.”

Merrill gasps at this. I remember the day well. I did not heed their warning; instead I let my temper flare. Within seconds I had both boys knocked to the ground. I was determined to beat the shit out of them. They would learn to know their place below me. It is a cut throat occupation to be an assassin and if they could not handle a little girl, maybe they should be leaving.

A hand on the scruff of my neck pulled me off my prey and lifted me into the air. I released an agitated growl and took a swing at my captor. I froze when I saw who held me, and thinking back, I am sure my jaw hit the floor. Nero, the most respected Master and assassin alive, broke up a fight between children. He chuckled when he saw my reaction.

I have heard the rumors about him. He had bright, blue eyes and midnight hair with a charm to make any woman swoon. Some say he could do the work of all the Guardians combined. At age 28, he was the youngest Master until I broke the record.

He scolds me for letting my temper get the best of me, saying if it rules my judgment, I will eventually wind up in trouble. At that age, I was too blind to see the truth in his words.

“Nero must have seen the potential I had. After letting me go, he told me to come find him after my lessons and he would help me learn the other elements. It is not unheard of for some Guardians to take trainees as apprentices outside their normal lessons.”

Once the other kids learned of Nero taking an interest in me, they started avoiding me. As a child, I did not understand their behavior. They thought if they isolated me, I would fall behind in my training. Needless to say, this pushed me harder. My frustration and confusion came out during my times spent with Nero. His training was challenging and he never cut me a break. Over the next few years, Nero helped me calm my mind and started guiding me through the motions of learning air and earth.

In my 17th year, Nero took me deeper into the forest then I had gone before. We were done training for the evening and it was starting to become dark. Any questions I asked were silenced. Finally, we stopped on the edge of a clearing.

“Nero turned to me and told me, ‘I am proud of how far you have come from the wild, scrawny scrap of a child I pulled off those bullies so many years ago. This next step you must take alone.’ These were the only words he said before pushing me into the clearing. I cannot share more with you but the Lady of the Forest granted me fire. No one is born with the affinity for fire. Once a Guardian masters all three elements: air, earth, and water, along with the elders deeming them worthy, the Guardian will mysteriously disappear for a night. Sometimes they will return with fire, in a wrecked emotional state without the element, or they do not return at all.” I will always remember that night; I had no idea what was going on to begin with. Nero was acting weird and after he pushed me into the clearing, he promptly disappeared. Four stone pillars stood around the clearing with glyphs of each element the pillar represented carved into them. My eyes drew to the fire pillar, the one farthest away from me.

Curiously, I went to the fire pillar, running my fingertips over the stone. Feeling a presence behind me, I spun around, ready to scold Nero for being ridiculous. Instead, the Lady stood in the center of the clearing.

‘Many think you are ready for fire but will its flame burn away your mind? Will its smoke blind those knowing eyes? Will its life take your potential and reduce it to embers, never allowing it to burn brighter?’ she mysteriously asks these questions but I was unsure if I should reply. ‘Come child, do not let your youth hold you back as it does in the eyes of others.’ The Lady instructed me to take her place in the center of the clearing.

‘Fill each pillar with the element it represents and add a piece of your soul. Send the last piece of your soul to fire last, and if it accepts you, you may go on to wield the element as a Guardian of our Mysteries, Well, and Power.’

Half of me thought this was some weird joke that no one thought was funny. If I could not have sensed the true essence of the Lady next to me, I would have thrown my arms in the air, exasperated. I would then turn on my heel and start the hike back, calling Nero a bastard for dragging me out here.

I took a deep breath, releasing my stress and ending my mental rant. Sending air to the first pillar, a heavy, ancient magic settled over me. I felt lighter as the air carried a piece of me with it. There was a puddle on the ground I used to send water. As the water collided with the pillar, I felt another piece of myself lost. Water, being my born element, is my closest and most responsive element. With water sent away, I felt broken, empty; washed away was my fluid movement and personality. My mind rebelled against finishing the ritual. I am glad that I do not have to experience that feeling again.

Pushing on, I threw earth to the third pillar. I sunk to my knees as another piece cracked within me. The third piece of my soul was gone.

I was hollow; empty without the three elements filling me. Desire to pull myself back together was strong but pride kept me from quitting. Memories of my peers looking at me with disdain, and the older Guardians looking down on me because of my age, pushed me on. Many thought me a fool and a liar about my skills.

I took what little is left within me and hurled it at the final pillar. As the rest of my soul, the very essence of me, left my body, the world around me darkened. Fire filled my vision, hot and angry as the pillar took in my life energy.

The four pillars vibrated with the elements and my soul. Suddenly, the broken pieces of my soul flowed from the pillars, bringing the elements with them. My body was lost in the clearing; a hollow, empty shell.

All four elements rushed back into my body. The broken pieces of my soul came back together. In a flash, my soul was whole, stronger than before. From that moment on, I could feel each element flowing through my veins.

Fire, sweet fire, was the loudest. It screamed for attention and had a begging need to do my biding. Its desire burned through me. I remember being on my knees, screaming as the inferno engulfed me. After a minute, the power inside of me finally waned to a warm glow.

‘Do not let this new power go to your head. Use your skills to protect your brothers and sisters. Do not let your youth or lack of experience best you or I will take back the elements gifts,’ warned the Lady.

I turned to thank her but the quick movement and the whole experience of the ritual made me pass out. The morning sun woke me and I slowly made my way out of the circle. Outside the clearing, Nero rejoined me. He expressed his worry about me not returning sooner but congratulated me all the same. I was so excited to see him that sparks would shoot from my fingertips. This caused Nero to sit me down and started lecturing me about the element of fire late into the morning. I only rolled my eyes at him, too happy to complain.

 

*~*

 

Varric nudges my arm, “Hey Daydreamer, come on back.”

I blush and wonder how long I was lost to my thoughts.

“Do you think Danarius or Hadriana know anything about Guardians?” asks Anders.

“She did not mention anything about Guardians when I was around her. Jaculus, a scholar, was there but I do not know what information he has revealed,” I state.

Fenris joins the conversation. “It does not matter what they know. They are still a threat and I am going to take care of it,” he says with passion.

“Oh no, you are not doing this alone. I need to figure out what they know to protect the Guardians and then you can happily kill them.” I must know if any other Guardians will be in danger. The presence of Jaculus means there is a traitor in our group. Any traitors must be put down.

“Varric, make sure your contacts keep their eyes open. Amare, you are welcome to continue to work on this with us, but I would appreciate if you would stay with one of us at all times. You are still new to the city and we cannot take the chance of you being kidnapped. Any with all that out of the way, let’s all get a drink.” Hawke ends the serious conversation of the evening. I prickle at the thought of having to stay with someone. Being alone is what I am good at, but he did have a point about never being in a city before.

“Sure thing, Hawke” Varric gets up and sticks his head out the door yelling for ale.

Varric and Isabela rally the group into playing some sort of card game called Wicked Grace. Since I never heard of this game, I request to be kept out.

“May I watch you play?” I ask Sebastian.

“Sure, but the true professionals are Varric or Isabela. I am sure at least one of them cheats 100% of the time,” Sebastian picks up the cards he is dealt. I slide my chair closer to Sebastian in order to observe how to play. Anders glances up from his cards quickly.

“You can come watch me.”

Varric chuckles, “That would be your first mistake.”

“Thank you, but I am fine here,” I tell Anders. My shiny companion seems to be the most reserved besides the blood mage Merrill. The group becomes more animated as they continue to consume more ale. I have never been around alcohol so I did not drink but I found the experience fun to watch. Isabela tried her hardest to get everyone drunk as fast as she could. She claims it is needed to celebrate her new friend and roommate, who must have been me. I guess I know where I am staying now. Sebastian and I were the only two to not drink that night. Merrill is what they called “wasted” after a couple drinks.

 

 

*~*

 

The next few days are very uneventful. Isabela and I spent a lot of our time just swapping stories and wandering the city. Sometimes Hawke would join us. Nights are the hardest for me, when the sun went down, I felt the need to shift and prowl. I miss going on patrols and sparring with Nero and the other Guardians. Hopefully, we can solve this mess soon so I can return.

 

*~*

 

I jerk awake to the sound of a squeal and a thump of a body hitting the floor. Isabela is on her back next to the bed staring up at me. I try to ask her what the hell is wrong but my vocal cords are all wrong.

_Shit! I shifted in my sleep!_

Instead of waking to a girl in her bed, Isabela woke to a large panther. Quickly, I focus and shift back to human form.

“I am so sorry! That has not happened since I was a child. If I go long periods without changing it gets harder to control…”

“No worries, I have shit to do today anyways,” Isabela says as she gets up, brushing off her ass.

“Where are we headed?” I am intrigued, we have not done anything important or fun since I arrived.

“Nope, just me. I have a lead on something that I need to follow up on alone. You could hang out with Varric or something.”

“Fine,” I am slightly hurt by her refusal to allow me to come along. Whatever, I know what it feels like to need to work alone. Once Isabela leaves, I look around her room, finding a spare pair of daggers. They will do. When I was passed out back at the forest, the guards made sure to disarm me. Unfortunately, I was not able to retrieve my blades and I have not asked Hawke if he found them when they looted the camp.

Sighing, I go out into the hall towards Varric’s room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

            I try not to feel let down as I make my way down the hallway to Varric’s room. Without bothering to knock, I enter. Earlier this week, he said I was too damn polite and that I am more than welcome to work on my “barging in” skills with him.

                “You are not looking happy to see me,” comments Varric, without looking up from his book work.

                I sigh and take a seat at his table, “It’s not you; I enjoy your company, most of the time.” Varric starts to say a witty retort but I continue on, “Isabela ditched me today, and frankly, I am going crazy being cooped up.”

                “I would go out with you but I am way behind on some Merchants Guild work. It has gotten to the point where they send someone every day to harass me.”

                “I do not need a date, plus Bianca would be jealous if you went out with me,” I try to make a joke of his offer.

                “Glad you are warming up enough to try and use sarcasm with me. In no time we will have you fitting in with our crazy group. Someday you may give Hawke a run for his money, but only if you listen to every word of advice I tell you,” Varric says with a warm smile. I roll my eyes at his words.

                “That is not what we are talking about right now. Can I please have a moment to whine? I am sick of wandering around Kirkwall with Isabela and sometimes Hawke. I need to do something physically exhausting but there is nowhere safe for me to train around here and no leads have come up about those Tevinter mages,” I whine.

                Bored already, I pull out a borrowed dagger and start playing with it. A few minutes of silence goes by until it occurs to me to ask if there is a way to send a message. Since being in Kirkwall, I have not seen any messenger hawks. I need to get word to Nero or an elder as soon as I can. Hopefully, someone will miss me enough to take notice.

                “Do you have a hawk I can borrow to send a message?”

                Varric looks up from his work, “No, only hawk I have to offer is the actual, almost legendary Hawke. I think the armies use messenger hawks. How would it even know where to fly?”

                “I would be able to communicate with it. Do you know of what your people refer to as rangers are?”

                “Well naturally, they are rogues like myself. Have not run into one though for a few years,” Varric knows he can come up with more information. “They work amazing with nature and open countryside,” his eyes widen as he starts to make connections.

                “No, it is not what you think. Rangers are not Guardians, but they do have Guardian blood within them. This allows them to lure wild animals to do their bidding. The reason you are seeing less rangers is because the elders are becoming strict with the issue of ‘mating’ with outsiders, if you catch my drift. Some assignments, or what I think you would call hits, have been placed on some rangers and their normal parent to punish the Guardian but this is a fairly new idea from one of the more bitchy and traditional elders. Personally, not a fan of him.” Sometimes Guardians do leave their duties for a short time to explore the surrounding world. This is not a common occurrence and Guardians mainly leave the forest when missions or assignments call for it. This conversation is serving as a reminder for me to try and return soon.

                Varric is intrigued to learn more about Guardian romantics. “Anyone special left back in that big ol’forest you call home?” he asks.

                “No, I do not have a mate yet. Do you? Who picks them?”

                “First, we don’t use the word ‘mate.’ Second, Bianca is the only lady to hold my heart. And third, people can be in a relationship with whoever they want. No one picks who we are with, that is a personal choice. Society may disapprove of the match but it makes for one hell of a story.” While Varric was talking, Hawke, Anders, and Fenris walk in.

                Catching his words, Hawke puts on a cheesy pout and whines, “But Varric, I thought your heart belonged to me?”

                “Oh Hawke, you knew your jealousy for Bianca would catch up with you,” Varric smirks.

                “I am going to take back my invitation of inviting you along today until my jealous side calms down,” Hawke continues with his pout, crossing his arms.

                “You haven’t invited me yet and I cannot go even if I wanted too. I am buried neck deep in this shitty paperwork I have neglected during the Deep Roads, and on top of that, with that nug humping brother of mine missing, the Guild decided to give me all his shit too. The bastards. Take Amare with you. She is bored out of her mind and Isabela ditched her,” Varric vents while he glares at the paper in front of him.

                The mention of Isabela causes Hawke to drop his act, “Where is she?”

                I put the dagger I was playing with away and reply, “She said something about a lead that she needs to follow up on alone. I am about ready to pull out my hair sitting around here.”

                “Damn her! If this is about what I think it is, and she went without me, I am going to kill her when she returns,” exclaims Hawke. In the background I hear Anders mutter something about spanking being more appropriate for Isabela’s tastes.

                “Go do your errands and babysit Amare for me. I need to get this work done,” Varric says while shooing us all out of his room.

                I am insulted, “I do not need a babysitter and quit passing me around like some burden. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, so screw you guys!” With a huff, I head down the stairs towards the door. “I am leaving your sorry asses behind.” They rush to catch up with me.

                “These sorry asses saved you,” growls Fenris.

                “I would have been fine. And besides, what type of rescue team threatens to kill who they save?! Make sense of that to me if you would be so kind,” I retort, spinning to face Fenris. Everyone stumbles to a stop behind me, not expecting my sudden stop.

                “How about I carry through with my threat?” Fenris leans over me. I do not back down.

                “Enough Fenris!” Anders tries to step between us.

                “Back off mage! Why defend her?” asks Fenris.

                “Please yell that again, I don’t think all of Thedas heard you,” snaps Anders.

                “I am not taking any of you assholes next time. Andraste’s ass, we are not even out of the Hanged Man yet and you three are ready to kill each other,” complains Hawke. He grabs Anders and I’s arms and goes to push us out the door. Easily, I break his hold and step outside on my own. “I just want to get through the day without any more bickering. Amare, I know you are capable of taking care of yourself but we do not know who is all looking for you. I would greatly appreciate it if you would stay with one of us. Hopefully this headache you three give me will be gone by this afternoon.”

                I feel slightly ashamed for bugging Hawke. Anders and Fenris stay silent. Spending time with Hawke wandering Kirkwall this last week has revealed his character. He will help any who ask him and he views every task worthy of his time. If it is too quiet, one could rely on Hawke to make a comment that would cause everyone to smile. Sometimes, he gets overly sarcastic in serious situations and can get on peoples nerves. I have come to respect and trust him, much to my instincts disapproval. Someone, such as myself, should never trust.

                “I will stick around with you,” I admit as I fall into step next to Hawke. “Now, where are we going?”

                “I got a letter to meet a Mistress Shelby at the docks and Hubert has been complaining about complaints from the mine,” answers Hawke. Fenris and Anders are following but they are not walking next to each other. Anders walks up next to me. I cannot help but feel a little on edge having a man on each side of me. Both of them are walking uncomfortably close and I feel like I am going to be sandwiched.

                “I couldn’t help but overhear the last of your conversation with Varric and I was curious to know if you were involved with anyone?” Anders asks nervously. Before I can reply about not having a mate, Hawke cuts in.

                “Why Anders, are we in love already? Poor Justice must be jealous. Too bad she is already taken,” Hawke bows, reminding me of Volare, and then offers me his arm. “My lady?”

                I politely take his arm, indulging in Hawke’s antics. Instantly, he pulls me ahead of the others by skipping. My agility allows me to effortlessly keep up with his bounding strides. For every single stride Hawke takes, I must take two. The difference off sets our rhythm, causing us to pull at each other making our movements very ungraceful and awkward. By the time we reach the docks, we are both out of breathe and giggling.

                “That is quite the delicate giggle you have, maybe you should laugh more often,” observes Hawke. When he wandered Kirkwall with Isabela and I, he gave me hell for being a sourpuss. Personally, I do not relax and have fun. My days have always been filled with training and assignments. Growing up, I did not have any friends and it was only a few years ago that Volare and I started hanging out some. I find myself relaxing more each time I am with Hawke.

                We come to a stop in front of a lady wearing a purple dress. She is tucked away in one of the back corners on the docks near a shady looking merchant.

                “Are you Mistress Shelby?” inquires Hawke. Anders and Fenris catch up to us. Both men do not seem impressed with Hawke and I.

                “That is correct. You must have gotten a letter from Terrie. My log is right over here on this crate. There are some requests for aid already posted,” informs Shelby. Anders walks over to the crate, taking a message in his hands.

                “This is about a search and rescue, and the only other message here is about trying to frame some Templar,” reads Anders to the rest of the group.

                “Take them both; we still need to go to the Bone Pit to talk to Jansen about the complaints,” Hawke turns and starts walking towards the edge of the city. I am so excited to be leaving the city there is a slight spring in my step.

                The group decides to try and free the apostate being kept by a bounty hunter on the Wounded Coast first. The coast is rugged with sparse vegetation. If there was more cover I would have snuck away in a heartbeat to shift and watch the group from a distance.

                Hawke comments on my fallen face as I continue to take in the surroundings. “What is wrong now? I could have sworn we were starting to crack that hard shell of yours and having fun.”

                “It is nothing. I have been enjoying myself with you. All this relaxing and lazing around is getting on my nerves though. I need to do something…” I complain. Hawke shoots me a smile before focusing on the road ahead. Before leaving the city, he informed me that there may be pirates. Hawke is not giving anyone his full attention at the moment. He seems to be trying to be more vigilant since I came along on this outing; almost like he feels responsible for me or something.

                Anders falls into step beside me, “You could come see the clinic. I always welcome extra help.”

                “I am not sure that is the type of work I am looking for. I know, it has only been a week, but I miss my training, assignments, and patrols.”

                “And by assignments you mean…?”

                “Yes, they do include killing. I am not the type of person you want in your clinic while I am in my pent-up, restless energy state,” I reply. “I may hurt, okay kill, someone. All my hands do is bring destruction.”

                “Maybe you could accidently kill this abomination. Oh wait, silly me, that would take all the fun away from me doing it myself,” adds Fenris. We all ignore his comment; trying to stay on Hawke’s good side and to help with his wish of having his headache go away.

                “I sincerely doubt all your hands do is bring pain,” Anders counters my claim.

                “Guess you will have to see me in action sometime, although by law that would mean I would have to kill you for seeing too much. Fuck it, I should kill you all because you already know too much,” I continue walking nonchalantly. My words put Fenris on edge.

                “I would love to do more than just see you in action,” flirts Anders. He is making me uncomfortable and I am not sure how to reply. I have never flirted with anyone before. Thankfully, Hawke saves me by announcing he thinks we are at the right cave where the bounty hunter may be hiding.

                Silently we enter the cave. Down some wooden stairs is a small group of bounty hunters.

                “Anders, stay up here and attack and support us from a distance. Amare, stay with him. Fenris and I will move in closer,” commands Hawke.

                There are only five men, basically a warm up for me. I disregard Hawke’s words and unsheathe my borrowed daggers. Jumping from the top of the stairs I land on one of the men’s back, killing him instantly. The four remaining men jump and draw their swords but they are too slow. I am dancing around them, slicing the back of the heavy armored warriors’ knees. Continuing to slip between the confused men, I guide a dagger between a young rogue’s ribs.

                Hawke sends a fireball behind me, throwing back two assassins trying to sneak up on me. The fire looks glorious as I plunge my daggers into the flames, silently asking the element to coat my blades. Fenris joins our little battle, killing the two warriors I immobilized earlier. The final man turns to flee but I quickly dispatch him with a quick throw of my burning dagger.

                “You gave me a heart attack rushing in like that!” Hawke exclaims, taking me by the shoulders. His sudden touch makes me uncomfortable and I shrug out of his grasp.

                “Don’t worry, it was basically a warm up,” I try to reassure him that everything is fine.

                “Excuse me for interrupting your warm up, next time lets stretch together first,” he mocks me.

                We move on into the main area of the cave. There are more bounty hunters gathered around what appears to be the leader.

                “Please stay back with me,” begs Anders. I do not reply but I do plan on hanging back for this fight. The three companions focus their attacks on the leader, who continues to rally his troops into fighting harder. While the leader takes all the damage, I idly pick off any who come to close to either of the mages. Hawke and Fenris have fought together before and as the mage immobilizes and disorients the targets, the warrior swoops in with a killing blow.

                It has only been five minutes and I am bored staying on the sidelines. I feel the water dripping down from the roof of the cave and gathering within the dips in the floor. Easily I reach out, guiding the water over the remaining bounty hunters. My open hands become fists, causing the water to freeze solid. Fenris quickly changes his attack and scythes the frozen statues, shattering them.

                “That was awesome!” Hawke kicks some ice chunks with his foot. Fenris only nods his head not bothering to look at me. _What a prick._

                “How do you do that? I felt no mana from that spell,” Anders asks as he walks over to me.

                I sigh, “I already explained I am not a mage.”

                “You must be, how else could you use elemental magic like that?”

                “I do not use magic. I do not need your precious mana or lyrium. I am not human or a mage or whatever. If it pleases that pretty little blonde head of yours to think of me as some mystical being that will forever confuse you, that’s fine,” with each statement I poke him in the chest, trying to get my meaning across. I heard Fenris snicker as I was frustratingly trying to get Anders to understand.

                _Can’t this guy just listen and believe what I explained when I first arrived?_ I walk away from Anders before I do something stupid, like changing my fingers to my claws and slashing that ponytail off. I go in search of the upper balconies where I saw Hawke disappear. _Fuck the steps, I am climbing up_.

                Picking up a jog I shift into my panther form and climb straight up a large beam to the upper levels. Resting on the top of the railing behind Hawke, I start sharpening my claws on the wood. Hearing the unexpected noise, he turns quickly, raising his staff. I give a mental sigh as I roll my shoulders and reluctantly shift back to human form. I miss being in predator form for long periods of time.

                “Easy killer, it is only me,” I smile.

                “Well, only you can be pretty intimidating popping up out of nowhere looking like that.”

                “Funny, I am not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not,” we glance over to see Anders running up the stairs yelling.

                “I knew you were a mage! I felt the Fade when you changed or shape-shifted!”

                “No Anders, not a mage,” Hawke and I say at the same time in monotone. We look at each other and share a smile.

                Turning to Hawke, Anders asks, “Surely, you must have felt it too? Can’t believe I am asking this, but, Fenris did you feel anything?” Fenris ignores our conversation and continues to loot bodies.

                “I guess you could say I used the Fade to shift but that does not make me a mage. For the love of nature, can you just let it go already?” He is starting to really get on my nerves.

                “I will not let it go until you explain what you just did.”

                “Fine. I am not sure this will make much sense to you. Let me keep it simple for you; I am both human and predator in a way. Both bodies or forms are one, but I cannot occupy both at the same time. If you call me a spirit or demon, so help me, I will kill you right here,” I threaten. “Whatever form I am not in is still connected to me but not on this physical realm. When I shift, I basically trade bodies like one would change clothes. Both are very natural forms for me to take.”

                Anders seems insulted that I would threaten him. Before he can think of a reply, Hawke cuts in, “Now that that’s settled, let move on. You all remind me of a bunch of squabbling old women.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

            After seeing the captured apostate off, we continued on our way to the Bone Pit. The area is very bare of any shrubs, unless someone wanted to count the rocks as plants. I felt very exposed being out in the open without any vegetation or trees to hide in. Walking along the edge of the path, I could look down into the quarry where a few miners were lazing about.

“Shouldn’t they be doing something?” I inquire.

“Yes, I am assuming they are standing around because Hubert has not taken care of any of the complaints,” explains Hawke with a shrug of his shoulders.

 Entering the main camp, Hawke makes his way over to a man with red hair. “What’s going on Jansen?”

Jansen is relieved to see Hawke, “There are… these things! These undead things crawling the tunnels. Hubert doesn’t believe us; he expects us to continue working but we refuse.”

“First spiders, now undead, what’s next? High dragons?” Anders crosses his arms, unable to believe the mess this mine is constantly in. Hawke takes his leave from Jansen and we make our way to the east mine entrance.

Before entering, Hawke turns to me, “Amare, stay here with Jansen.”

“No, that’s bullshit,” again I feel insulted that everyone feels like I am inadequate to take care of myself. _What reasons does Hawke think he has to try and shelter me like this?_ “I can handle myself in a fight probably better than most of your companions.”

“Want to put that claim to the test?” snarls Fenris.

“Actually, I do,” I spit back, getting ready to drawl my daggers.

Hawke losses his cool, yelling, “ ENOUGH! You two are not talking to each other for the rest of the day. Don’t even make eye contact with each other. Amare, you can come but I don’t want to see a single hair on your head hurt.”

“What’s it matter to you if I get hurt or not? I am an adult and you are not my mentor, so quit telling me what to do,” I argue, crossing my arms and giving Hawke a scowl. _So much for wanting to respect him._

No one said anything after that, and we silently made our way into the mine. The tunnel was not what I envisioned a mine to look like. There were no dirt floors and rocky walls, but amazing, what I assumed to be dwarven, architecture. Small groups of corpses and skeleton archers randomly wandered through the tunnels. With speed and precision, we eliminated them all. There is a tension within the group that is deafening but everyone chooses to remain silent, even while in the midst of battle, not even a single war cry was heard. Upon entering the central hall, a ghastly looking knight with glowing red eyes and another mage-like creature awaited us with a small army of corpses.

Hawke and Fenris are the first to enter, leaving Anders and I to follow. Leaning over to Anders, I whisper, “What are those things?”

“An Arcane horror and a revenant.”

“Alright, we need to take out the arcane horror first. Ignore the minions for now. Amare, the revenant can do a mass pull, don’t let it target you,” strategizes Hawke. Thinking about facing these new foes gets my blood pumping. Fenris darts forward, activating his markings, and starts pounding on the Arcane Horror’s defenses. Everyone continues to move while fighting so they do not get surrounded by the small minions. I skirt the edge of the room, cutting corpses’ throats as I pass by, to get behind the arcane horror. Striking with twin fangs, I plunge both my daggers into its chest. Suddenly the Horror starts shaking and emitting a blue light. With a crack, Fenris and I are thrown back. We both slam into a wall, the air getting knocked out of us. _One boss down, another to go._

Quickly we are on our feet analyzing the revenant. Hawke was caught in his mass pull earlier and is fighting too close for comfort for a mage. He seems to be using his staff to try and deflect the revenant’s powerful sword swings. Fenris rushes over to batter the revenant away from Hawke. All the while Anders has been keeping the corpses off our backs. The battle is over quickly once everyone was able to focus their attacks on the final enemy.

I retrieve the daggers from the ash pile left on the floor from the Arcane Horror. These weapons pale compared to the blades Nero gifted me after gaining my Master status. No one has said anything except for Hawke checking on everyone. He makes his way over to me.

“Nice moves getting around the Horror.”

“Thanks, I have been meaning to ask if you found any weapons back at the camp in the Planasene Forest?” I ask, while whipping the daggers I borrowed off.

Sighing, Hawke replies, “I think I know the set you are talking about… I was saving them for someone…” I stop what I am doing and look at him. He is shifting from foot to foot, almost as if he is nervous.

“And who is this special someone?”

“Oh no one you know. I will show you them and you can see if they are yours.” Hawke quickly tries to move away from the topic. After looting some old abandon chests around the edge of the room, we make our way back to the surface and Jansen.

It is late afternoon when we return to the Bone Pit where the miners are relaxing. Jansen is still standing by a lumber pile rubbing his chin. Upon seeing our band making our way over, he meets us half way.

“Please tell me you took care of it?” he begs.

“We did, now you all must get back to work or I am sure Hubert will fire you all,” states Hawke.

“Umm well… you see… about working…”

“Don’t tell me you are going to request vacation time on top of all this?” kids Hawke.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dare, but the miners need new pick axes,” informs Jansen.

“I will see what I can do back at town, but until then you all must work with what you got.”

Hawke turns to leave and I fall into step next to him. “So, picking up pick axes are we?” He only shrugs his shoulders and continues on the walk back to the Hanged Man. With each step he takes, Hawke hopes that Isabela is back and has not gotten herself into any deep shit that he will have to dig her out of. Of course, he could leave her to wallow, but she seems to have grown on him.

 

*~*

 

Back at the Hanged Man, Isabela is leaning against the bar and Varric, Merrill, Sebastian, and Aveline are gathered around a table in the back corner. I take a conveniently empty seat between Sebastian and Varric, and enhance my hearing to eavesdrop on Hawke and Isabela’s conversation.

“…I have been following a lead and I am so close I can taste it.” Isabela steps away from the bar to face Hawke.

Hawke is not impressed, “Isn’t that what you said last time?”

“You mean when I went digging for that stash?”

“Yes, that turned out to have several badly written poems and an old boot.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Isabela continues on, “It could have contained the relic. I just thought I would let you know that I may soon be taking you up on that offer of help.”

“You should have asked me this morning to go with you. Since you didn’t, do I get a kiss from the feisty temptress when I present her with the hard won prize?” He knew he couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

Walking closer, Isabela replies, “If you want, I’ll even let you choose where I plant it.” Giggling, Isabela goes back to the bar for another drink. Hawke debates whether or not to join her. Finally, he decides to order a couple shots and to stay at the bar with her.

I return my full attention to my table. Hawke and Isabela clearly have a thing for each other. _I wonder if they would be considered mates?_ The mating, or romantic system, or whatever it is referred to here, is strange.

“Would Hawke and Isabela be a couple then?” I ask Varric, remembering our conversation from this morning.

“Sharp eyes kid. They do not believe that it could be a serious relationship but I can see it heading that way. First, they need to accept the fact that they want to be serious with each other,” responds Varric.

“Since when do you give relationship advice?” asks Sebastian.

“Whenever the time is right, all relationships and life in general is a story.” Varric does have a great mind for stories, even if they do become exaggerated over time or with added alcohol to his system.

Hawke comes and joins us at the table. “What relationship are we reviewing? Please do not let it be that Bianca gal again…”

“It is always about Bianca; you of all people should know this by now. We were just talking about Amare and her mysterious dark night she is in love with,” states Varric with a smirk. Anders quickly looks my way.

“The hell are you talking about? We already had this conversation or is your brain too small to remember this morning?” I go on the defensive.

Varric lets my words roll off his shoulders, clutching at his heart dramatically, “You wound me!”

“Where is Isabela?” Merrill finally speaks up. Just as she finishes her question, there is a squeal as Isabela comes barreling down the stairs tipsy.

“There is a fucking monster bird in my room! If it shits on anything its dinner!” She runs over to Varric, stumbling and grabbing at his shoulder. “Please come shoot it!”

I jump up from my seat and race up the stairs to her room. I slam the door behind me, hopefully, detouring anyone from thinking they will hurt the bird. Upon entering the room, a medium sized hawk launches itself off of the window sill towards my face. Its feathers brush my face as it quickly pulls up to circle above my head.

“Demetri!” I offer my arm, allowing the hawk to land. Instantly he puts his head down, wanting scratched. Happily, I oblige. “Oh I’ve missed you.”

In his messenger harness is a small note. Removing the paper, I unroll it to find the message is from Nero. Hearing the door behind me open, I quickly stuff the note in my pocket without fully reading it. Turning around, I see Hawke, Isabela, and Varric, with Bianca, entering the room.

“If you so much as point that thing at him, I will burn it,” I threaten.

“I think she means business,” states Hawke. Varric quickly holds his crossbow behind his back. They all take a moment to study the bird on my arm. Demetri is a red-shouldered hawk. About medium sized compared to other hawk species. When perched, his signature red shoulders can be seen. He has a brownish head with a red chest fading away to a pale belly. There is white barring on his tail feathers, wings, and back. Demetri turns a dark eye on the strangers who just entered the room.

“Guys, I want you to meet Demetri, my red-shouldered hawk.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

                Demetri ruffled his feathers in contentment while observing the strangers.

                “First, the cat thing. Now a hawk? Is my room becoming some infested funny farm?” grumbles Isabela.

                Her words hurt me a second time today. I thought the pirate was enjoying our week together and we were truly becoming friends.  

                _Shit, quite being so sappy. You are better than that._

                “Didn’t realize I am such an inconvenience to you,” I snarl, letting the pain lace through my words.

                “Whatever, I need another drink,” Isabela turns and walks away. She should not brush stuff off like it is no big deal. Truly, it is insulting.

                “Ignore her, she is just drunk. Her little lead today fell through,” informs Hawke.

                Varric raises his hand, “Question?”

                “Yes, Varric?”

                “How can you be friends with a hawk if you can also be a cat thing or whatever you explained? Wouldn’t your cat self want to eat the birdie?”

                “How can you be friends with a Hawke if you can bullshit anyone you pleased into being your friend?” I smile back at him.

                “Touché, but if I can bullshit anyone into being my friend, how come Meredith has not invited me over for tea yet?” Varric relaxes his posture and brings Bianca out of hiding. Not that a small dwarf can successfully conceal a huge crossbow.

                Hawke slaps Varric on the back, “Do not doubt your abilities my short friend. I am going to let everyone know it is a false alarm. Want to start a game of Wicked Grace?”

                “You know it,” Varric replies enthusiastically. “Care to join us, Amare?”

                “Maybe in a moment,” I reply. Hawke and Varric leave, closing the door behind them to stop anyone from looking in at the strange new girl that has piercing blue eyes and a hawk on her arm. Needless to say, I am trying to keep a low profile. My task has been made simple in the lower districts of the city thanks to all the refugees that have been piling up over the last few years. No one cares to inquire about a new person popping up here or there without a backstory.

                Taking a heavy wool blanker off Isabela’s bed, I wrap it around my shoulders like a shawl. Without my shoulder pieces on, Demetri cannot perch and hang onto me. The blanket will allow him to maintain a grip with his sharp talons, protecting my skin. Taking the note out of my pocket, I sit on the edge of the bed to read it. Demetri has moved up to my shoulder and has started preening my ponytail. Unrolling the letter I read:

                _Only three days since your disappearance was noted. Many believe deserted. Send word. Nero._

                On the day I was abducted, I was meant to meet with Nero the next morning to spar. I have never missed a time to train with him unless a mission came up but I send word. I have been gone a week now, and if it took four days total for Nero to send Demetri, then it took the hawk about three days for him to find me.

                I am impressed with how quickly he found me. Demetri is a young bird who has not been tasked with flying skies outside of the forest. He defiantly had to leave his home territories to find me, on top of that, I am in a city. The city creates a difficulty to pinpointing one person, especially if he has no idea where I would be. Demetri does have an advantage over normal hawks. Guardians can create bonds with their animals, allowing both to locate the other; distance and time can weaken the bonds. Reaching up, I scratch his head, sending proud, motherly feelings to him.

                If it is to be believed that I deserted, no other Guardians have been taken. So why just me? Is it some personal grudge? But why want Fenris also? The Tevinter mages must not be targeting our knowledge. As much as I hate to admit it, I need to talk with Fenris about Danarius and Hadriana.

                Searching Isabela’s room, I find some parchment and ink to send a message to Nero.

                _In Kirkwall, was abducted, escaped. Traitor within Guardians, unsure of reason. Searching for more information. Know Jaculus was there._

                Rolling up my message, I fit it into Demetri’s carrier. Sebastian knocks on the door and then enters, followed by Merrill.

                “Varric mentioned you may rejoin us shortly but then you did not show up. I wanted to check up on you,” admits Sebastian.  I look to Merrill, silently asking why she is here. “Merrill is interested in the bird Isabela made a fit about.”

                I eye the blood mage. She is standing behind Sebastian, almost like she is hiding, twiddling her thumbs from nerves. Merrill is very child-like but has not given me a reason this last week to be stand-offish. I did not go out of my way to hang out with her either. My conscious points out that I know what it feels like to be outcasted by your own people and maybe, just maybe, I should give her a chance.

                I let out a mental sigh, “Come meet Demetri.”

                Merrill squeals, hops up and down, and finally races over to sit next to me on the bed. Sebastian leans against the crate next to the wall watching us.

                “He is so beautiful!” admires Merrill with large eyes. “He even has his own little birdy backpack! Does he carry stuff?”

                “Yeah, the carrier allows him to hold messages. They cannot be very large or heavy. If they are large they will not fit and if they are too heavy he would not be able to fly well.”

                “He is just so adorable!” gushes Merrill. Demetri is enjoying the attention and fluffs his feathers, making Merrill smile.

                “I need to send Demetri back now,” I say as I take him off my shoulder and walk over to the window.

                Merrill’s face falls, “Will I get to see him again?”

                “Of course, but he needs to deliver a message for me.” The smile instantly returns to her face.

                “I need to tell Varric you allowed me to see him. Varric told me not to come because you are like Fenris but you were kind to me,” says Merrill. She runs out of the room before I could ask her what she meant by me being like Fenris.

                Once I sent Demetri out the window with the instructions to find Nero, I turn back to Sebastian.

                Watching me, he observes, “That was kind of you.”

                I ignore what he says and ask, “What did she mean by Varric warning her that I am like Fenris?”

                A couple moments pass while Sebastian gathers his thoughts. “It is not my place to explain Fenris but if you have not noticed, he does not take kindly to any mage, especially blood magic.”

                The time I have been around Fenris has revealed his strong distaste for mages, excpecially Anders, but not Hawke for some reason. Now that I think about it, Fenris has been very rude to Anders. Maybe something has happened in their past to come between them? Possibly a girl? _Nah, I cannot see them falling for the same person._

                “Thanks for checking in on me but I do not think I will come back down to join everyone,” I return the conversation to his opening statement.

                “Are you feeling well?” inquires Sebastian, straightening up from the crate he was leaning against.

                His concern for my general well-being is difficult to believe. Nero has been the only person to truly care about me.

                “Don’t look so shocked,” adds Sebastian with a small chuckle. I lost track of my composure when he inquired about what I was feeling and just stared at him dumbly.

                _I am such a dummy. Mental head slap._

                “I am okay, just a lot on my mind right now,” I mumble, looking at my feet.

                “If you ever need to get anything off your mind, I will listen. Would you like to get out of the city again tomorrow?”

                “Yes please!” My mood lightens at the thought of being able to get out tomorrow.

                “Want to go ride horses? I have not taken my mare out in a while and the stables are next to the Chantry,” informs Sebastian.

                My lightening mood starts to fall when I remember Hawke’s request to not be alone.

                _I should not have to get permission to leave the damn city._

                “Guess you are going to have to stop by in the morning to pick me up like I am some child so I do not get on Hawke’s nerves,” with that, I plop myself back down onto the bed exactly like a small child throwing a fit.

                “No, I will not pick you up. You can make your own way to the Chantry, where I will met you around eight, then I will give you a personally tour of the stables. And Hawke only requests that you are not alone because he worries for you.”

“Why would he worry? He has only known me a week now,” I point out.

“You would be surprised how quickly you can grow on someone’s heart, “  Sebastian says before exchanging goodnights with me.

 _What did he mean by those last words?_ I would never grow on someone’s heart. There is 19 years of experience behind me with perfect examples of me never growing on anyone’s heart. Maybe Nero, but that took years, I am sure, not a few days.

Changing thoughts, I brighten at the thought of another adventure to fill my time. Tomorrow evening I need to corner Hawke and get my blades back. Plus, I need to try and talk with Fenris. It is not like I despise him or anything, I just do not want to converse with him. Smashing my fist into his face sounds like a much better way to reach an understanding.

I decide to take a quick bath to scrub the grime I acquired from battle today off my skin.

 

*~*

 

I wake up before Isabela and am out the door in a couple minutes. Silently, I slip down the hall past Varric’s door. Thankfully, the two rogues do not wake. Isabela did not return until late last night, or early this morning, depending on how someone wants to look at it, reeking of alcohol.

Sebastian is waiting for me outside the Chantry as I arrive.

“Beautiful morning!” I call as I approach. The walk was nice. It felt great to finally feel like I could do something on my own, even if it was only walking to the Chantry.

“It is,” agrees Sebastian, “Shall we head over to the stables?” I agree and we were on our way. Everyone says the stables are next to the Chantry, but they are actually located behind the Chantry, closer to the city wall. Not many people own horses in Kirkwall. There is no need for them in the crowded streets and the majority of the population is too poor to take care of sure an animal. The rich and noble can normally hire a carriage here or there to have a fancy entrance at a party.

The stables are simple, yet clean. Many of the young boys the Chantry take in as orphans earn their keep as stable hands growing up. Rows of stalls, not all of them full, line the bottom while the second story contains hay to feed the beasts. Sebastian explains that the stables are normally fairly empty; the only horses who call the stable home are a couple pairs and one team who pull coaches and Sebastian’s personal mare. A few other saddle horses come and go with their riders, mainly messengers, between cities. I feel each horses’ mind as we walk down the stalls. All are content and happy, except the stallion on the end.

I touch his mind, feeling an extreme amount of pent-up energy. Antsy, the horse strikes at his stall door, wanting to run. Turning to Sebastian, I ask about this restless critter. Sebastian explains that this is the horse that brought everyone back to Kirkwall when Hawke, Isabela, Fenris, and Varric rescued me. The other horses in the stable are a breed called Free Marches Ranger, but this one is an Imperial Warmblood. An intimidating mount for most experienced riders, this horse comes from a long line of fine, and expensive breeding.

“Has he been kept locked up all week?” I inquire. It is sad to see such a creature locked away.

“I believe so. No one wants anything to do with him for fear of offending some magister or noble from Tevinter. I have been meaning to take him out but have not gotten around to it,” explains Sebastian.

“I’ll do it.”

“I’m sure a buyer will come along and… wait no. You are not riding him. Have you ever ridden before?”

“Yes, I have actually. Now, where is the tack, let’s get going!” I race behind Sebastian as he shows me to the tack room where a spare saddle is that I can use. Using halters to tie our horses inside their stalls, we begin tacking up. The spare saddle does not fit the warmblood’s back very well but will have to do. Once both horses are ready, we lead them out of the stable. Sebastian’s mare is a beautiful bay with elegant legs and a small head. The stallion instantly starts prancing in place once he is out of the stables. His gray dappled coat shines in the sunlight.

                “Let’s walk the horses out of the city so we do not hurt any innocent bystanders. I have a feeling that stallion is going to need a good breeze,” suggest Sebastian. By breeze, he means allowing the horse to run as hard as he can for a great distance. I agree, feeling the restless energy rolling off the stallion. We make our way through the streets, I eye Sebastian’s mare, she is smaller than the stallion, which has a large frame and rippling muscles from long days of work and training.

                “What’s her name?”

                “Patty,” Sebastian relies kindly. I look at him, trying not to smirk at the name but failing. “I know what you are thinking, but the name seemed to suit her at the time. When she was a filly I could only get her to be my friend by feeding her these little peppermint patties.”

                “Awe, that is just adorable,” there is no sarcasm in my statement. It really is an adorable little story, not very manly, but still adorable. We have made our way outside the side gates of Kirkwall and halted our horses, tightening the girths, preparing to mount.

We both manage to mount without any difficulty. Starting off at a walk I look back over my shoulder, sending Sebastian a wicked smirk. Sitting deep in my saddle, I squeeze my legs and put my hands forward. The dappled stallion takes off, finally happy to be running. Soaring over the ground a smile touches my face. This is the most freedom I have felt in a long time. Tears start to stream from my eyes as the wind whips in my face. After what seems like hours I pull the stallion up to a walk. Sebastian catches up and rides beside me.

“I am never going to ask you to race,” he says as he wipes sweat from his brow. It is fairly warm out but I do not notice because I am too happy to be ridding.

“Patty there could probably give him a run for his money. He was just fresher is all,” I observe our horses. Both are covered in sweat and breathing heavy. We walk along in silence, allowing the horses to catch their air. I take a moment to study the surrounding countryside which is rolling hills with patches of trees dotted here and there.

“Let’s find some shade,” advises Sebastian looking at a patch of trees to the left of the road. Once under the shelter of the trees we both dismount and loosen the girths on the horses. Taking a seat on a downed log, I allow the stallion to graze around me.

“He is a beautiful horse,” I say as I admire his conformation.

“Aye, that he is,” agrees Sebastian. We both lapse into silence, content with each other’s company to not have the need for constant conversation. I slide down onto the ground with my back to the log and start to doze off.

An hour later, the stallion blows in my face, waking me up.

“He seems quite taken with you. The whole time you slept he seemed to stand guard over you. He did not graze compared to fat Patty over here, who cannot get enough of this green stuff,” teases Sebastian. My stomach growls as I look at the sun, it must be a little after noon by now.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah, I may have forgotten to grab some breakfast this morning,” I admit. Sebastian gets up and moves over to his saddlebags, pulling out a couple packed lunches and tosses me one.

“Here. I packed these just in case, but they may be kind of plain. Not a lot for sweets around the Chantry kitchens.” His words trigger the memory of my picnic with Volare. Of course, how could I forget the sweet rolls or his apology? He knew what was going to happen. Volare was in on the plan the whole time.

_Shit._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Sebastian caught the look of horror that flashed across my face.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice contains an edge as he looks around for danger.

  “Just reminded me of something, it is nothing though, so do not worry about it,” I try and shrug it off but completely fail to regain an air of calm.

I do not fool his rogue instincts.

“Please do not feel like you need to lie to me. It was clearly something, judging by the look on your face. Normally, you are as controlled as Fenris, but if you do not want to share, that’s fine,” Sebastian scolds and reassures me at the same time. He relaxes back against the log, opening his lunch.

We eat in silence, both lost to our own thoughts. Sebastian is an honest man, with a rocky youth. He would understand if someone is not willing to easily open up, but he has found the Maker and will pray for them anyway.

“It was a sweet roll,” I finally blurt, my cheeks turn red and I look down at my lap to avoid eye contact. Confused, Sebastian raises an eyebrow at me, waiting patiently for me to explain myself.

“I remembered how I was drugged; it was hidden in a fucking sweet roll of all things! I knew it tasted off but didn’t think anything of it. And Volare, he was the one that brought them.” My frustration grows, “He knew. That fucker knew. What he said before passing out showed that he knew. Why would he turn traitor? Why just me?” Tears of frustration gather in my eyes. Angrily, I try and blink them away. “I don’t understand why they targeted just me, and did not take Volare also. Shit, he was passed out right next to me and he is a good warrior. Besides my skills as an assassin, I am no holder of secrets. I am meant to kill to protect those secrets, not study or know a lot about them.”

All my frustration and confusion from the last week finally force my tears to fall. I am a frustration crier and I absolutely hate it.

Sebastian slowly puts his arm around my shoulder, trying to comfort me. This simple act, one little act of one person showing silent support and comfort makes my tears fall faster. No one has ever offered me comfort before. Since the time I left my mother’s side, I have been on my own. At the end of the day, no one would even ask how I was doing. And if they did, they probably wanted something from me.

A sob slips its way past my lips with this thought. I lean into Sebastian, and let myself cry. Out of everyone, he sees me for how I truly am.

 

 

*~*

 

Sebastian looks down on the young woman crying into his shoulder. She is still young, almost a child, despite what she believes, and yearns for any human comfort. Granted, she would rather die than admit it or seek comfort from someone.

When he silently put his arm around her shoulders, he was surprised when she did not push him away and instead, curled into the embrace. Half his mind believed she would turn away and  her walls would slam back in place, higher than before.

Sebastian offers words of comfort to Amare as she cried out her frustrations and loneliness. Words that promise friendship and a belief that this mystery, or situation she was in, will be solved. He will help Amare any way he can. Hawke will also lend his help, for he has grown to care for her as well.

Eventually, Amare wipes at her face, suddenly self-conscious. With a hesitant thank you and an apology, she quickly scoots out of his arm, asking if he is ready to start riding back. She is eager to leave the clearing behind, along with the memories of what she believes to be weakness.

 

*~*

 

Returning to Kirkwall took longer than the leaving ride. Instead of allowing the horses to run back, we alternated between long trotting and walking. The whole ride after my breakdown in the clearing, felt awkward because I could not stop thinking about how I cried against Sebastian’s shoulder while he tried to comfort me with soft words. I avoided looking his way; the feelings of embarrassment from that moment staying with me. Sebastian seemed to understand that I needed space to come to terms with my emotions

_Damn all emotions to hell._

We return to the stables, still silent, and began unsaddling and grooming the horses. I take my time brushing out the sweaty stallion, enjoying his contentment now that he got to finally exercise. With a deep breath, I leave his stall to find Sebastian.

“Thank you, for the ride and stuff…” I trail off lamely. _Real smooth Amare._

“It was my pleasure,” replies Sebastian, always the gentleman. “Were you still planning on visiting Hawke?”

“Yes, he has something of mine.”

“Let me walk you. I cannot stay long because I must return to the Chantry for some evening tasks,” he explains. We make our way out of the stables. It was indeed late afternoon but I felt as though the day flew by.

My embarrassment is soon forgotten as Sebastian accompanies me to Hawke’s estate.  A dwarf, who Sebastian greets as Bodahn, answers the door.

Quickly, he ushers us into the entryway explaining that a Lady Leandra is out at the moment but he will retrieve Hawke for us, since he is who we intended to see anyways. As the polite dwarf steps out, he runs into another blonde dwarf who is coming into the entryway.

“Sandal, my boy,” exclaims Bodahn. “Say hello to the guests while I retrieve Messere Hawke.” The blonde dwarf, Sandal, turns to me exclaiming “enchantment.” I am not sure what to think of this little dwarf as he makes his way towards me. Completely ignoring Sebastian, Sandal comes to a stop in front of me. He keeps staring up at me so I kneel down to be on his level.

“How are you?”

Sandal does not answer and I start to catch on that he may be a little mentally challenged. Judging by the look on his face, the dwarf is awestruck by something. Boldly, he reaches out to touch my check before repeating “enchantment” again. His face seems to clear and he disappears into another room.

“I have never seen him change his expression before,” observes Sebastian as I rise to my feet. Before I could ask Sebastian about what he means by the word enchantment, Hawke walks into the room.

Hawke skips the greetings, “I hear you were able to get out of Kirkwall again today, Amare.”

“I did, Sebastian took me riding and it was lovely,” I admit, refusing to look at Sebastian while keeping a smile aimed at Hawke.

“Lovely you say?” Hawke seems to pick up on my discomfort.

“I must return to the chantry. Thank you for accompanying me today,” Sebastian continues to bid us both a good evening as he leaves me to Hawke’s care. Hawke leads me into the next room where a mabari is sleeping peacefully in front of a hearth located on the right wall. Next to the hearth is a door leading to the kitchen. A desk covered with letters sits below the stairs on the back wall, there is also a door leading to a dining room. Along the left wall is an open doorway, revealing towering bookshelves filled with books. I wonder what stories and histories lay within their bindings.

Hawke leads me up the stairs to a second story landing containing three other doors.

“I am assuming you are here to take a look at those daggers?” inquires Hawke, opening the door to a bedroom.

“That I am, but I also wanted to see that charming face of yours.” I stop in the doorway, unsure if I should enter or not.

“Now is that sarcasm or an actual compliment?” half jokes Hawke, kicking a pile of clothes out of his way. Needless to say, his room is not the cleanest thing in all of Thedas. When we first met, which was not that long ago, I was fairly serious all the time. My week of being around Varric, Isabela, and Hawke when he could join us, has started to cause me to try out their favored sarcasm.

“They are in here somewhere,” mumbles Hawke while continuing to dig through his room. “I wanted to keep them out of sight because they were going to be a gift.”

“I will help you find her another gift in return for keeping my daggers safe,” I promise, still standing in the doorway.

“Her? How do you know they were for a her?” he stops his searching to scrutinize me. I roll my eyes.

“I am not blind. You need to keep them out of sight in your own room. They are a pair of expertly crafted daggers, that a dual wielding rogue would love to get their hands on. Granted, I have only been around a week, but the only dagger wielding rogue, who would be spending time in your room, and lucky enough to deserve attention from you, is Isabela. That is who I would bet on.”

“Great, now you are going to be betting on stuff? You have been spending too much time with Varric,” complains Hawke.

“Do not change the subject,” I scold. “I apologize that I am taking away the gift but those daggers mean a lot so I cannot let her, or anyone else, have them.”

Hawke resumes his search. The bed is fairly clear of objects but unmade, and I contemplate taking a seat. On second thought, from what I assume Isabela and Hawke like to get together to do, I instantly change my mind. I will be fine standing in the doorway. Another minute of searching goes by until Hawke triumphantly pulls my daggers out from under his bed.

I smile when he hands them to me. Instantly I start critically inspecting my weapons for any damage. Both daggers are fine but a little dirty from being lost under Hawke’s bed.

My Finesse daggers have two blades, with the grip located between them. The main blade is longer than the back blade and both blades seem to represent the limbs of a bow. Curved, with thin points, the Finesse daggers are crafted to slash and pierce weak points between armor.

“Now I just need to go talk to Fenris,” I mentally check getting my daggers back off of my list. “Want to join me?”

“Not tonight, I am expecting company.” A silly grin touches his face and I am assuming a certain pirate is coming. Nonchalantly, I shrug and turn to go. Navigating his messy room with practiced grace, Hawke grabs my wrist to stop me from leaving.

“Wait-” The rest of his sentence is cut off as I pivot, throwing my weight back into Hawke, causing him to let me go as he stumbles backwards from the unexpected movement. My heart is racing from the unexpected rush of adrenaline. _What is with everyone and grabbing my wrist?_ At least I did not follow through with the urge to drag my daggers across his chest. 

“Sorry! It was just a reaction…” I bow my head, ashamed that I would go on the defense with someone I have come to consider a friend. Isabela has informed me about some aspects of friendship, including not attacking your friends. She also informed me not to refer to sex as mating or talk about picking a mate because that is not how people do things here. And frankly, I have been informed that my terminology weirds them out. Although I have been becoming more comfortable around this interesting group of people, one just does not forget years of always expecting an attack from any one of your comrades.

“I do not want you going to Fenris alone. If you want to bet on something, bet on the fact that you would kill each other.” Hawke’s tone becomes exasperated, “I am tired of dealing with Fenris and Anders bickering, and I do not want to add you to the mix. Sometimes I feel like everyone in this damn city is a fucking toddler.”

My feelings of shame are quickly replaced with frustration, “Weather you like it or not, I need to talk with Fenris. He seems to have information about that bitch Hadriana. I am going to figure this out. It is my duty as a Guardian, with or without your help.”

“I understand, but it will not do any good for you two to try and kill each other only seconds into a conversation,” explains Hawke. “I promise you can talk to him tomorrow, and I will be there.”

“What am I to do until then? I am assuming you do not want me to go back to the Hanged Man alone?”

“Not necessarily, no. Just stay here tonight.”

“I’d love to,” purrs Isabela from behind me. Hawke jumps, unaware that she was even in his house.

I tsk, “You are going to have to be better than that Bella.”

“And how do I know you just didn’t jump and are only claiming to know I was sneaking up behind you?” Isabela crosses her arms as I turn to face her.

“Because I can tell you where you were at different points of our conversation. For example, you were starting the stairs when Hawke was comparing everyone to toddlers.” She narrows her eyes at me, knowing she has been beat. I admit I feel a little smug.

“How about we take both of your skilled asses out of my doorway,” chimes Hawke, who is blocked inside of his messy room.

“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or be insulted by the sarcasm and poor word choice,” I thoughtfully stroke my chin, acting like I am lost in thought.

“Oh for the love of Andraste,” grumbles Hawke.

“I am defiantly taking the compliment,” says Isabela as she flaunts it down the stairs. I follow at a normal walk that has no excessive shaking of the ass.

We go into the library. Hawke and Isabela occupy a couple of high backed chairs near the hearth. Instantly they start teasing and flirting with each other. If I was not here, they would never have left Hawke’s room. Tuning them out, I explore the library, running my fingers across the spines of the books. The rear of the library contains a second story. I climb the stairs, my eyes eagerly devouring the books. Satisfied that I saw everything on the second floor, I rejoin Hawke and Isabela. Hawke leaves the flirting long enough to tell me I can read anything I want. Smiling, I start finding books that look interesting.

“Garret!” a woman’s screech comes barreling in from the other room. Hawke mumbles something under his breath, slumping lower into his chair. The owner of the voice comes into the library. She carries herself like nobility and has graying hair that is long enough to touch the top of her shoulders. This must be the Lady Leandra Bodahn mentioned earlier. “I expected that room cleaned a week ago. If it is not picked up by the morning, Bodahn will feed everything on the floor into the fire. So help me, I just don’t feed you into the fire also.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, want to test me?” The look in her eyes is almost scary.

“Mother, I am a grown man. I do not need to clean my room. Want to send me to bed without supper while you’re at it?” Hawke seems to be growing furious, probably from being called out in front of Isabela and me by his mother.

“Yes actually. I apologize to our guest for having to have this conversation in front of them but that room will be cleaned, man or no man, if you are to live under this roof,” and with a sweep of skirts, Leandra elegantly leaves the room. I try to hide my chuckle behind my hand. Hawke shoots me a glare and I instantly return to the books.

Standing, Isabela suggests that she will help Hawke clean his room. She probably just wants to leave my company to do other, special activities. Hawke, still frustrated, does not seem to catch on to what she is saying but welcomes her help anyways. Left alone in the library, I decide to take my chosen books to the second level of the library, where there is a lot of floor space to spread out the books. This area must have been meant to have a desk or some sort of furniture at one point. Alone with the books, I start leafing through the pages. Each one instantly captures my attention. The books back in the forest were boring histories about the Guardians, at least I found them boring, an outsider would pay a fortune to get their hands on them. The books from Hawke’s library had a variety of differences. Some were histories; others actually contained non-fictional and fictional stories. Before I know it, I cannot make out the script on the pages because it finally grew dark. Sighing, I migrate with my new favorite fiction books next to the hearth to continue reading for a few more hours. It is well into the night when I cover a yawn and think about finding sleep. It dawns on me that Hawke never showed me where I could sleep and there is no way in hell I am venturing to his room with Isabela in there. _Do not want to see that._ Getting comfortable against the wall next to the hearth, I start to doze off. The wall is warm against my back, heated from the hearth’s chimney.

 

*~*

 

A turning of a page wakes me from my sleep. My breathing stays the same and I consciously keep my muscles from tensing. I take a quick inventory, noting that I still have my daggers but there is a blanket over me which will hinder my reaction time. Peeping an eye open, I spot a young man reading in the chair Hawke occupied last night. Strangely enough, he looks like Hawke although he is a few years younger with short black hair and a clean shaven face. Slowly, I grip my daggers but the blanket shifts with the movement.

“Good morning, I hope you don’t mind but you seemed cold when I arrived last night,” his voice is smoother than Hawke’s. I remain silent, totally foreign to this sort of situation. “Right, so probably wondering why I came into the library in the early morning,” he seems awkward and feels like he must explain himself, “The door was cracked and the hearth was still lit so I believed Mother may still be up waiting for me but instead I found you sleeping there looking extremely uncomfortable and, well, I thought you might like a blanket. Why are you sleeping on the floor anyways?”

I ponder answering but decide I might as well, would not want to be rude or anything. “Well Hawke got in trouble about his messy room and Isabela offered to help and they both left before pointing out a bed. No worries, I wanted to continue going through the books anyways.”

The man snickers, “Now that sounds like the truth, Garret is always in trouble with Mother about his room. And if Isabela was ‘helping,’ I wouldn’t have ventured up there myself.”

My assumption was correct about him being related to Hawke, this must be a younger brother.

“Forgive my lack of manners, I am Carver Hawke and you are…?”

“Amare, I did not know Hawke had siblings,” granted I never did ask about his family. The statement seems to strike a nerve with Carver.

“Not a lot of people do. It’s because there is only one great Hawke.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I give this Carver Hawke a quizzical look, feeling some sibling rivalry. “What makes you say that?”

                Carver takes a deep breath and I feel a well-worn rant coming on, “For starters, Garrett did not even mention me…”

                “Now now, it is not like Hawke and I really had time to talk,” I cut his rant short, defiantly not wanting to discuss anything to do with family dynamics. Carver looks like he wants to say more but holds his tongue. Silently I return the books to their homes on the shelves.

                “It seems I have not been very gentlemanly this morning. Since you lost out on sleeping in a bed, would a hot breakfast help make up for your loss?”

                “Breakfast would be great.”  We both entered the kitchen at the same time as Leandra. After she finished hugging on Carver, she started cooking breakfast. Carver offered his help but Leandra sternly refused and told him to stay put. I did not even bother to help because I knew I would be no use in the kitchen. Throughout breakfast, mother and son became lost in conversation with each other.

                From the looks of the situation, Carver has not returned home for a long period of time. I wonder how Garrett and Carver get along. Besides the obvious sibling rivalry taking place, how does the whole one brother being a mage while the other brother is a Templar situation work out. From my understanding of what Isabela said, Templars and mages do not get along. At least, they are not supposed too.

                Garrett and Isabela have yet to surface from cleaning the room. Glancing out the window, it looks to be midmorning. I still need to go speak with Fenris today. I contemplate going without Garrett but frankly, I do not know where I would find Fenris. Leandra or Carver may be able to guide me to him but I do not feel like interrupting their mother-son time. Five more minutes pass and I am seriously considering walking around Kirkwall to find Fenris. Carver sees my discomfort and comments on it.

                “You do not need to sit here and listen to us catch up. Feel free to go whenever you like.”

                “Thank you and I do not mean to be rude by just sitting here. I am not sure where to go,” I admit, watching their faces to see if they will use this information against me in some manner. They would not do such a thing, but I do not know this yet. “I am thankful you let me stay.”

                “Even if you stayed on the floor?” chimed Carver.

                “Even on the floor, surrounded by lovely books,” I agree. Leandra is appalled by this fact and starts to fuss over me. Saying how no guest in her house should ever be on the floor.

                “You poor dear! I did not know you were on the floor.” Distressed, Leandra quickly clears the dishes off the table. “I am going to have a word with Garrett!”

                Carver turns to me as Leandra leaves the room.

                “Why did you stay on the floor?”

                “Hawke… I mean Garrett, does not want me to be out by myself since we do not know who may all be after me. It is a long story. I feel oddly inclined to listen to him though,” I admit.

                “So normally you would not have listened?” asks Carver.

                I give an unattractive snort, “You could say that.”

                Leandra has reached Garrett’s door and is pounding on it with the ferocity only a mother can have. Over the pounding we can hear her threatening Garrett. Carver and I share a look and an unspoken agreement that it is time to split. From the sound of her voice, Leandra is going to rip Garrett a new asshole.

                Once outside, I breathe in the city air trying to become accustomed to all the strange scents. Defiantly not as fresh as the air from the forest but at least it does not stink like Dark Town.

                “Sorry for interrupting your time with your mom,” I cannot help but apologize.

                “No worries, Garrett seems to have a knack for getting on her bad side,” Carver shrugs off my apology.

                “But you should not have to be wandering the streets.”

                “I am not wandering; I am escorting a beautiful lady around Kirkwall.” My eyebrow rises as I hear his words.

                “Surely you are mistaken good sir,” I scoff. Entering a small side courtyard off the main walkway, we take a seat on a stone bench.

                “Pssh, I am never wrong,” boasts Carver.

                I throw my hands in the air in mock defeat. “Fine, fine. Anyways, why don’t you head on back to mommy?”

                “And leave you all alone?” retorts Carver. “That would mean going against Garrett’s wishes; which I am very inclined to do, if only I was not such a gentleman.”

                “Since I am not a lady, it makes no difference if you return to annoy your brother. And if you want to please your gentlemanly side, give me directions to Fenris’s place,” I quickly compromise.

                Carver gives me a sideways look before continuing, “Fenris’s place?” After some slight persuasion, Carver finally relents and gives me directions to an abandoned mansion Fenris has been staying in. Carver leaves the small courtyard, leaving me alone. Looking around, I begin assessing the sides of the buildings. Deciding to get a higher vantage point, I walk over to a fairly easy looking wall.

                Quickly I climb up the side of a estate. My fingertips feel foreign on the stonework as I scale the wall. Normally when I spend my time climbing it is with claws. In the forest climbing trees, I would use my claws for greater grip, plus being in panther form is always a bonus no matter what I am doing. Up on the peak of the roof, I roll my shoulders and easily slip into panther form. Dashing across the rooftops, I make my way to the old mansion. On an adjacent roof, I scope out the mansion looking for any sign of life. After an hour of watching and seeing no activity, I wonder if he is even there.

                Carver warned me that I should knock before entering because Fenris can be touchy but I think it is time I had my own fun. Silently I drop into the alley running behind the estate. I find a broken window and slip inside, staying alert.

 


End file.
